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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 23180 | 2021-05-26 04:22:25 | 115.85 | 99% |
| 21799 | 2021-04-28 01:44:31 | 109.95 | 99% |
| 21791 | 2021-04-25 10:52:10 | 105.13 | 98% |
| 21209 | 2021-04-04 00:42:31 | 116.15 | 99% |
| 20918 | 2021-03-29 11:55:20 | 105.86 | 98% |
| 20391 | 2021-03-18 01:27:37 | 91.37 | 98% |
| 18671 | 2021-02-10 13:11:48 | 106.98 | 98% |
| 4370 | 2018-04-13 08:07:04 | 84.67 | 97% |
| 2204 | 2017-08-21 11:05:49 | 76.35 | 98% |
| 1215 | 2017-06-08 13:23:49 | 63.14 | 98% |