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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6264 | 2020-09-09 18:56:38 | 117.27 | 98% |
| 5281 | 2020-07-23 17:50:11 | 117.00 | 97% |