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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 20651 | 2022-06-02 22:56:37 | 88.10 | 96% |
| 18770 | 2021-11-05 21:22:45 | 107.03 | 98% |
| 17942 | 2021-09-28 20:46:13 | 103.10 | 97% |
| 10077 | 2021-02-23 12:35:21 | 81.29 | 95.4% |
| 8625 | 2021-01-19 10:51:07 | 89.68 | 97% |
| 7921 | 2020-12-29 21:47:40 | 81.33 | 95% |
| 1904 | 2020-09-05 20:31:08 | 84.07 | 96% |