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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9732 | 2021-07-25 15:37:23 | 101.81 | 97% |
| 9115 | 2021-06-09 14:44:31 | 101.06 | 98% |
| 9077 | 2021-06-06 15:53:52 | 95.94 | 98% |
| 6948 | 2021-04-22 13:54:41 | 100.14 | 97% |
| 5894 | 2021-04-07 12:26:31 | 98.19 | 97% |
| 4856 | 2021-03-05 15:02:01 | 97.94 | 97% |
| 1894 | 2021-01-05 13:44:30 | 78.19 | 95% |