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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 48540 | 2022-10-31 19:02:19 | 176.20 | 98% |
| 48516 | 2022-10-31 06:17:52 | 180.52 | 99% |
| 40788 | 2018-01-03 05:28:57 | 136.87 | 98% |