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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10751 | 2022-07-21 16:11:12 | 89.96 | 98% |
| 10533 | 2022-06-22 09:53:47 | 91.38 | 97% |
| 9574 | 2022-03-30 17:00:16 | 82.79 | 96% |
| 7849 | 2022-01-28 14:11:18 | 72.95 | 95% |