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 |
---|---|---|---|
4563 | 2022-11-28 07:49:34 | 102.53 | 98% |
4072 | 2022-09-10 20:02:42 | 87.80 | 97% |
3937 | 2022-08-13 13:50:14 | 98.03 | 97% |
3079 | 2022-04-05 07:35:21 | 91.11 | 98% |