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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3131 | 2022-09-20 11:56:07 | 64.97 | 97% |
| 2483 | 2021-11-06 05:11:42 | 56.48 | 95% |
| 1699 | 2021-05-11 07:51:01 | 64.66 | 97% |
| 112 | 2019-01-29 07:21:13 | 44.98 | 96% |