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 |
---|---|---|---|
2678 | 2023-04-03 02:55:53 | 97.76 | 98% |
891 | 2020-07-22 06:49:36 | 103.89 | 98% |