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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10978 | 2023-04-08 15:20:12 | 128.79 | 97% |
| 10740 | 2023-03-24 03:38:56 | 119.97 | 96% |
| 10665 | 2023-03-22 09:11:15 | 150.36 | 99% |
| 8635 | 2022-09-13 09:39:27 | 135.34 | 98% |
| 7756 | 2022-08-03 09:12:27 | 142.93 | 98% |
| 7117 | 2022-06-02 13:38:47 | 120.76 | 97% |
| 1382 | 2021-11-11 09:53:40 | 116.69 | 99% |