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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5846 | 2022-11-29 14:21:33 | 91.87 | 96% |
| 2742 | 2021-12-27 15:17:30 | 91.07 | 97% |
| 1736 | 2021-10-04 15:16:38 | 84.30 | 96% |