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 |
---|---|---|---|
1695 | 2021-02-18 12:02:03 | 72.05 | 98.8% |
156 | 2021-01-25 04:57:34 | 63.14 | 97% |