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 |
---|---|---|---|
2690 | 2020-12-19 18:33:31 | 134.96 | 98% |
2322 | 2020-10-31 23:38:41 | 125.09 | 98% |