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 |
---|---|---|---|
1234 | 2020-12-22 13:36:19 | 85.15 | 100% |
380 | 2020-07-22 14:05:49 | 77.85 | 98% |