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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 20111 | 2024-03-31 09:50:42 | 146.38 | 98% |
| 18714 | 2023-11-11 07:29:30 | 136.09 | 97.4% |
| 16935 | 2023-08-09 10:31:31 | 139.16 | 97.5% |
| 16846 | 2023-07-24 12:12:32 | 142.42 | 99% |
| 15005 | 2023-02-07 20:21:50 | 135.64 | 97% |
| 5217 | 2021-05-16 14:30:21 | 75.28 | 94% |
| 2218 | 2021-02-11 02:36:14 | 115.81 | 97% |