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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7795 | 2022-05-01 12:18:15 | 57.59 | 97% |
| 7673 | 2022-04-22 15:51:36 | 70.08 | 99% |
| 7639 | 2022-04-22 15:01:41 | 56.77 | 98% |
| 6723 | 2018-06-23 15:57:50 | 60.89 | 96% |
| 3634 | 2018-02-27 12:54:30 | 40.33 | 95% |
| 2822 | 2018-02-10 14:17:06 | 53.88 | 95% |