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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 38123 | 2025-06-20 04:32:56 | 127.96 | 99% |
| 37134 | 2025-05-31 16:42:22 | 112.82 | 98% |
| 23932 | 2024-04-13 09:30:44 | 116.88 | 99.2% |
| 20098 | 2023-12-21 00:11:28 | 114.62 | 98.5% |
| 18708 | 2023-11-24 07:32:09 | 105.78 | 98.5% |
| 17337 | 2023-11-14 00:30:25 | 115.93 | 98% |
| 7239 | 2023-04-03 01:05:52 | 111.62 | 99% |
| 6206 | 2023-03-14 05:54:54 | 113.05 | 98% |