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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9029 | 2022-08-05 22:29:00 | 106.21 | 96% |
| 5259 | 2022-02-16 14:13:44 | 110.19 | 98% |
| 779 | 2021-10-23 23:24:59 | 98.50 | 97% |