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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 15866 | 2025-07-01 13:28:25 | 97.96 | 98% |
| 13739 | 2023-02-01 07:57:41 | 90.01 | 98% |
| 13320 | 2023-01-17 18:09:11 | 90.18 | 97% |
| 11246 | 2022-03-22 16:35:36 | 75.30 | 96% |
| 8504 | 2021-12-11 13:41:44 | 88.33 | 98% |
| 8466 | 2021-12-10 18:18:41 | 84.09 | 97% |
| 4759 | 2021-09-29 08:14:43 | 84.87 | 97% |
| 1808 | 2021-08-20 18:45:24 | 69.04 | 97% |
| 1403 | 2021-08-17 11:26:43 | 73.44 | 98% |