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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8524 | 2022-12-12 20:54:33 | 101.53 | 98% |
| 4087 | 2022-05-18 11:20:10 | 85.75 | 97% |
| 2285 | 2022-02-17 12:23:02 | 92.87 | 98% |
| 2077 | 2022-02-08 15:42:59 | 84.58 | 96% |