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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 26920 | 2023-08-07 16:48:37 | 94.76 | 98.5% |
| 25666 | 2022-02-09 17:26:19 | 87.53 | 97% |
| 23886 | 2021-11-11 16:03:38 | 94.20 | 98% |
| 17149 | 2021-02-01 15:13:18 | 90.03 | 96.5% |
| 11998 | 2020-10-07 16:59:20 | 85.31 | 97% |
| 7367 | 2020-04-15 02:39:39 | 83.65 | 97% |
| 3938 | 2019-12-24 15:35:33 | 74.20 | 97% |