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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 23570 | 2021-07-15 02:21:16 | 124.15 | 97% |
| 23409 | 2021-07-07 14:59:17 | 122.23 | 98% |
| 16587 | 2021-02-22 03:08:17 | 119.47 | 98% |
| 9993 | 2021-01-12 07:55:16 | 125.96 | 98% |