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 |
---|---|---|---|
672 | 2022-11-25 14:07:22 | 72.85 | 97% |
318 | 2020-10-28 09:36:29 | 70.03 | 96% |