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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 30565 | 2021-09-26 18:56:55 | 110.41 | 99% |
| 26524 | 2021-08-19 21:44:18 | 81.49 | 96% |
| 24704 | 2021-07-18 04:49:45 | 92.69 | 97% |
| 20727 | 2018-12-26 10:57:54 | 91.42 | 97% |
| 20022 | 2018-12-19 07:57:57 | 96.16 | 98% |
| 17782 | 2018-11-09 11:42:48 | 91.15 | 98% |
| 13697 | 2016-06-14 12:50:39 | 76.41 | 91% |
| 13072 | 2016-02-21 07:34:35 | 89.14 | 96% |
| 12791 | 2015-04-05 13:01:49 | 80.33 | 96% |