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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 18952 | 2023-08-03 06:45:33 | 88.83 | 98% |
| 18508 | 2023-07-08 06:27:11 | 80.76 | 98% |
| 17959 | 2022-09-10 01:09:28 | 83.57 | 98% |
| 14667 | 2021-05-22 06:23:28 | 73.88 | 98% |
| 13577 | 2021-03-14 03:35:14 | 73.19 | 98% |
| 10907 | 2020-07-20 09:17:31 | 75.06 | 97% |
| 6722 | 2019-10-09 19:55:29 | 62.29 | 97% |