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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4261 | 2022-08-26 10:23:46 | 116.62 | 98% |
| 3649 | 2022-07-25 11:23:47 | 107.46 | 98% |
| 3007 | 2022-02-03 10:30:14 | 112.63 | 98% |
| 1951 | 2021-07-07 19:33:37 | 102.80 | 98% |
| 1290 | 2021-04-01 10:39:10 | 94.38 | 97% |