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 |
---|---|---|---|
11753 | 2019-10-13 12:10:30 | 100.69 | 99% |
11420 | 2019-10-06 11:22:30 | 94.30 | 98% |