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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 19916 | 2024-03-24 13:44:42 | 110.87 | 98.2% |
| 19470 | 2024-03-05 07:04:02 | 100.90 | 98% |
| 18285 | 2023-09-15 05:43:21 | 101.37 | 98% |
| 14271 | 2022-08-04 18:10:01 | 87.49 | 96% |
| 11465 | 2021-11-02 06:06:54 | 95.57 | 96% |
| 10027 | 2021-08-10 12:46:14 | 88.21 | 97% |
| 7940 | 2021-04-15 13:47:24 | 86.01 | 97% |