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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 18885 | 2023-06-09 17:15:34 | 101.88 | 98.3% |
| 10630 | 2021-06-21 19:13:59 | 79.25 | 96% |
| 7083 | 2021-03-18 20:45:37 | 63.22 | 95% |
| 6162 | 2021-03-12 15:35:21 | 70.36 | 97% |
| 4597 | 2021-02-25 18:03:50 | 70.10 | 96.1% |