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 |
---|---|---|---|
1527 | 2020-11-25 12:08:43 | 55.00 | 94% |
1427 | 2020-11-09 07:24:51 | 54.24 | 94% |