I was stealing saltshakers again. Ten, sometimes twelve a night, shoving them in my pockets, hiding them up my sleeves, smuggling them out of bars and diners and anywhere else I could find them. In the morning, wherever I woke up, I was always covered in salt. I was cured meat. I had become beef jerky. Even as a small, small child, I knew it would one day come to this.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 31061 | 2022-03-12 12:32:32 | 118.90 | 98% |
| 30718 | 2022-03-09 12:19:47 | 122.53 | 98% |
| 30294 | 2022-03-04 17:39:11 | 141.37 | 99% |
| 29627 | 2022-02-21 20:37:20 | 127.00 | 99% |
| 22313 | 2021-12-29 19:31:15 | 113.88 | 99% |
| 19805 | 2021-12-05 13:01:02 | 113.51 | 98% |
| 13173 | 2021-03-16 12:49:58 | 105.24 | 99% |