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 |
---|---|---|---|
33294 | 2020-11-28 19:26:38 | 75.03 | 98% |
31100 | 2020-07-05 22:22:59 | 67.18 | 97% |