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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 15058 | 2021-06-24 12:44:45 | 102.96 | 99% |
| 13279 | 2021-03-10 13:39:24 | 103.45 | 99% |
| 13045 | 2021-02-16 15:20:02 | 92.40 | 98% |
| 6605 | 2018-12-12 10:26:51 | 98.73 | 99% |
| 4270 | 2018-07-09 16:20:52 | 91.36 | 98% |
| 406 | 2017-12-20 15:02:06 | 89.27 | 99% |