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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7133 | 2022-01-11 12:52:49 | 58.96 | 96% |
| 6949 | 2021-12-29 13:22:02 | 62.59 | 96% |
| 5131 | 2021-11-09 04:59:11 | 60.88 | 96% |
| 4719 | 2021-10-30 08:57:06 | 59.38 | 94% |