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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2650 | 2021-06-04 00:29:54 | 142.52 | 98% |
| 1832 | 2021-05-23 17:39:51 | 147.80 | 99% |
| 1440 | 2021-05-18 19:15:22 | 104.68 | 98% |
| 901 | 2021-05-10 23:38:14 | 127.65 | 98% |