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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3581 | 2021-03-26 10:33:41 | 65.14 | 97% |
| 2524 | 2021-02-21 13:51:29 | 63.18 | 98.2% |
| 2448 | 2021-02-20 05:07:14 | 58.73 | 97.3% |
| 1656 | 2021-02-12 05:24:27 | 56.99 | 98% |