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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7523 | 2023-07-28 03:44:25 | 97.75 | 97.1% |
| 5291 | 2022-09-28 15:22:07 | 76.84 | 96% |
| 5232 | 2022-09-12 07:09:17 | 85.05 | 95% |
| 4343 | 2022-06-26 07:05:23 | 71.80 | 96% |
| 3703 | 2022-04-24 15:43:03 | 67.32 | 94% |
| 1980 | 2021-07-07 02:37:08 | 71.89 | 96% |