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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 17940 | 2023-01-22 17:31:02 | 113.61 | 98% |
| 13251 | 2021-10-28 11:14:39 | 91.85 | 98% |
| 10586 | 2021-07-08 18:29:03 | 98.28 | 97% |
| 9533 | 2021-06-22 09:57:20 | 91.99 | 97% |
| 4927 | 2021-03-12 06:49:55 | 100.01 | 98% |
| 2105 | 2021-01-28 09:32:25 | 80.32 | 95.5% |