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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3049 | 2022-10-19 22:10:31 | 115.35 | 97% |
| 2449 | 2022-10-05 21:36:02 | 117.27 | 97% |
| 2173 | 2022-09-25 22:44:47 | 117.98 | 97% |