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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 16273 | 2021-08-17 12:03:44 | 84.77 | 93% |
| 9779 | 2021-03-29 10:46:56 | 83.80 | 94% |
| 9533 | 2021-03-25 09:14:33 | 87.31 | 95% |
| 8274 | 2021-03-01 18:30:06 | 87.83 | 96% |
| 7175 | 2021-02-14 13:22:30 | 71.03 | 94.7% |
| 4323 | 2020-12-29 15:26:38 | 67.50 | 94% |
| 4308 | 2020-12-29 15:11:09 | 66.21 | 96% |