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 |
---|---|---|---|
631 | 2020-12-13 14:29:04 | 60.77 | 93% |
358 | 2020-08-29 23:46:56 | 54.05 | 93% |