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 |
---|---|---|---|
1652 | 2020-12-23 08:55:09 | 61.38 | 96% |
1433 | 2020-12-17 17:36:56 | 65.17 | 95% |