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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6510 | 2022-03-14 03:13:16 | 87.02 | 98% |
| 6130 | 2022-01-13 10:55:55 | 88.70 | 99% |
| 5663 | 2021-11-30 05:33:15 | 83.99 | 99% |
| 4496 | 2021-08-30 11:31:37 | 91.20 | 98% |
| 240 | 2018-07-12 10:31:54 | 66.56 | 98% |