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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8543 | 2022-12-16 21:09:33 | 118.76 | 98% |
| 6953 | 2022-06-23 21:19:39 | 118.12 | 98% |
| 6045 | 2022-05-03 23:30:14 | 102.60 | 96% |
| 4337 | 2022-02-08 04:39:24 | 122.30 | 98% |
| 3584 | 2022-01-20 01:10:47 | 119.87 | 98% |
| 716 | 2020-10-12 23:41:20 | 114.47 | 99% |