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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6917 | 2024-02-16 04:48:03 | 87.55 | 96% |
| 5694 | 2023-09-20 05:50:48 | 88.52 | 96% |
| 3064 | 2022-08-27 09:16:03 | 64.44 | 95% |
| 2151 | 2022-03-30 09:19:29 | 79.28 | 97% |
| 1558 | 2022-02-07 10:43:05 | 75.50 | 94% |