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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7244 | 2022-12-30 09:17:58 | 85.31 | 96% |
| 7236 | 2022-12-30 09:10:46 | 90.52 | 96% |
| 1351 | 2021-04-16 22:26:46 | 55.16 | 93% |
| 740 | 2021-02-01 10:02:21 | 57.35 | 94% |