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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 14935 | 2021-07-09 09:38:37 | 93.53 | 96% |
| 14880 | 2021-07-09 03:20:57 | 99.72 | 98% |
| 13677 | 2021-06-19 10:03:09 | 83.74 | 96% |
| 12907 | 2021-06-12 01:59:48 | 81.64 | 96% |
| 9563 | 2021-03-27 01:59:56 | 91.90 | 96% |
| 7001 | 2021-02-07 08:05:40 | 83.24 | 95.1% |
| 5471 | 2021-01-19 02:21:07 | 93.73 | 98% |
| 2584 | 2020-12-12 09:06:26 | 72.79 | 95% |
| 556 | 2020-09-03 15:17:18 | 69.98 | 98% |
| 37 | 2020-08-25 06:16:24 | 68.09 | 98% |