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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 18639 | 2022-02-02 08:30:51 | 117.34 | 99% |
| 12591 | 2021-09-12 19:14:01 | 105.39 | 99% |
| 12518 | 2021-09-12 09:12:42 | 115.85 | 99% |
| 11744 | 2021-09-01 10:50:47 | 113.52 | 99% |