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 |
---|---|---|---|
1425 | 2023-03-06 12:41:11 | 49.15 | 94% |
712 | 2023-01-02 11:34:04 | 53.18 | 96% |