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 |
---|---|---|---|
11468 | 2022-03-11 14:29:16 | 114.82 | 96% |
8550 | 2020-03-18 14:16:04 | 112.70 | 95% |