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 |
---|---|---|---|
16592 | 2023-06-01 19:43:15 | 152.05 | 98% |
14261 | 2023-02-07 20:21:48 | 145.61 | 98% |
13367 | 2022-09-11 19:52:09 | 162.51 | 98% |
11520 | 2021-05-24 11:05:05 | 175.68 | 99% |
5595 | 2020-10-09 14:10:05 | 170.37 | 99% |
4484 | 2020-05-19 18:10:32 | 141.36 | 97% |
3628 | 2020-03-05 22:32:25 | 148.57 | 99% |
581 | 2017-08-22 10:34:52 | 156.12 | 99% |
51 | 2015-05-05 15:31:05 | 88.82 | 94% |