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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 13025 | 2021-07-24 07:12:02 | 123.61 | 97% |
| 12912 | 2021-07-14 01:20:07 | 118.18 | 98% |
| 6718 | 2020-10-27 01:22:10 | 105.38 | 97% |
| 2319 | 2019-01-23 09:34:41 | 90.85 | 96% |