Esteban stood at the front of the room, staring at the page. Then he lifted his head and looked at us. We cheered again, even louder this time. I don't know if any of us really understood his dad's poem. But for a long time after he'd finished reading, I thought about that army of ants, how they were coming together. Like us.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
329 | 2022-03-03 10:36:30 | 63.09 | 96% |
257 | 2022-02-21 10:23:08 | 69.11 | 97% |