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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 22108 | 2021-11-08 23:10:40 | 61.45 | 97% |
| 20749 | 2021-07-31 20:27:37 | 68.27 | 98% |
| 19584 | 2021-06-16 17:57:33 | 61.21 | 97% |
| 17577 | 2021-05-02 20:11:47 | 56.77 | 98% |
| 16331 | 2021-04-03 00:35:14 | 63.68 | 97% |
| 15784 | 2021-03-21 21:27:23 | 63.02 | 98% |
| 14651 | 2021-03-05 02:41:07 | 61.55 | 98% |
| 11596 | 2021-01-17 19:47:15 | 65.14 | 98% |