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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 11620 | 2021-09-11 17:44:32 | 152.96 | 99% |
| 9818 | 2021-06-19 17:38:00 | 161.24 | 100% |
| 6303 | 2020-11-28 17:58:32 | 162.87 | 100% |