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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6009 | 2022-03-22 20:37:42 | 82.60 | 97% |
| 4390 | 2021-12-22 06:58:50 | 85.99 | 98% |
| 3553 | 2021-10-19 19:46:36 | 74.12 | 96% |