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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 30633 | 2023-10-24 19:12:38 | 137.23 | 99.5% |
| 30380 | 2022-08-07 13:20:11 | 121.45 | 98% |
| 27315 | 2017-07-02 09:25:46 | 151.32 | 99% |
| 24757 | 2016-10-16 05:47:22 | 140.54 | 98% |
| 24157 | 2016-04-02 08:05:56 | 112.53 | 94% |