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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10196 | 2022-03-12 03:17:34 | 82.12 | 96% |
| 9333 | 2021-12-06 11:52:36 | 78.48 | 96% |
| 8180 | 2021-10-29 14:34:58 | 81.26 | 97% |
| 7660 | 2021-10-11 06:56:48 | 89.42 | 97% |
| 2866 | 2021-04-23 03:37:52 | 77.91 | 95% |
| 2781 | 2021-04-15 15:52:51 | 75.02 | 97% |
| 1659 | 2021-01-11 13:37:54 | 74.28 | 95% |
| 786 | 2020-12-17 16:48:02 | 67.09 | 96% |