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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 14980 | 2023-06-15 02:55:00 | 71.09 | 97% |
| 14507 | 2023-03-21 02:22:02 | 63.02 | 95% |
| 12511 | 2022-06-24 09:27:54 | 64.77 | 96% |
| 11638 | 2021-04-20 09:46:20 | 57.79 | 95% |