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 |
---|---|---|---|
1054 | 2020-05-23 05:04:12 | 72.51 | 97% |
949 | 2020-05-18 02:50:05 | 71.03 | 96% |