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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 13591 | 2023-12-30 23:37:17 | 155.52 | 99% |
| 10782 | 2022-03-12 08:29:00 | 141.46 | 99% |
| 9467 | 2022-02-19 05:28:15 | 128.22 | 97% |