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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 17945 | 2021-04-17 22:36:15 | 80.04 | 99% |
| 16595 | 2021-03-12 23:31:11 | 93.07 | 100% |
| 16456 | 2021-03-06 18:25:27 | 75.18 | 98% |
| 16330 | 2021-03-01 23:50:11 | 72.37 | 98% |
| 15119 | 2021-01-16 20:33:26 | 77.64 | 99% |
| 13488 | 2020-11-07 22:43:22 | 69.51 | 98% |
| 11478 | 2020-09-18 17:42:54 | 58.03 | 98% |