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 |
---|---|---|---|
3857 | 2020-09-22 07:52:30 | 120.87 | 97% |
3707 | 2020-09-20 09:05:41 | 121.79 | 97% |