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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8931 | 2021-03-20 16:58:00 | 81.88 | 97% |
| 7394 | 2021-01-07 09:36:40 | 84.67 | 98% |
| 6030 | 2020-11-07 10:15:54 | 73.49 | 96% |