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 |
---|---|---|---|
495 | 2023-08-21 13:52:24 | 95.00 | 98% |
493 | 2023-08-17 15:42:50 | 89.40 | 99% |