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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 12996 | 2022-06-13 14:31:13 | 113.79 | 99% |
| 5206 | 2021-09-24 07:04:58 | 101.12 | 98% |
| 4518 | 2021-08-24 15:16:29 | 90.66 | 96% |