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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 26329 | 2024-03-19 21:06:36 | 96.79 | 99.2% |
| 22221 | 2021-09-27 22:21:04 | 107.01 | 98% |
| 20684 | 2021-07-21 22:30:31 | 98.41 | 98% |
| 18926 | 2021-06-05 13:08:55 | 89.05 | 97% |
| 18589 | 2021-05-24 18:53:13 | 91.00 | 97% |
| 16608 | 2021-03-20 17:25:18 | 101.12 | 98% |
| 12169 | 2020-11-04 11:20:12 | 78.47 | 95% |
| 5246 | 2020-06-17 18:19:45 | 82.30 | 96% |
| 1046 | 2020-05-04 13:12:47 | 57.14 | 96% |