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 |
---|---|---|---|
4683 | 2024-04-08 17:10:09 | 87.69 | 97.4% |
272 | 2021-03-14 16:08:40 | 81.35 | 97% |