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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7209 | 2024-01-28 04:05:40 | 88.24 | 97.3% |
| 6514 | 2023-01-28 17:00:15 | 84.19 | 99% |
| 6334 | 2022-06-20 02:06:51 | 85.84 | 99% |
| 5010 | 2022-04-10 01:00:48 | 86.32 | 99% |
| 3718 | 2021-09-29 08:14:50 | 74.94 | 96% |
| 3129 | 2021-06-25 09:03:16 | 80.63 | 97% |
| 1613 | 2021-05-19 08:08:13 | 74.80 | 97% |