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 |
---|---|---|---|
30990 | 2023-12-30 23:37:24 | 125.00 | 97.2% |
29716 | 2022-12-17 19:03:37 | 123.02 | 97% |
26920 | 2021-12-13 04:34:37 | 142.61 | 98% |
2710 | 2016-09-30 18:00:19 | 110.78 | 93% |