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 |
---|---|---|---|
5424 | 2023-06-21 21:41:25 | 73.51 | 96% |
3793 | 2023-04-26 19:43:24 | 62.86 | 94% |
1451 | 2022-11-26 21:45:42 | 66.32 | 96% |