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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9033 | 2025-02-24 11:34:30 | 97.38 | 98.5% |
| 4739 | 2023-04-20 09:11:11 | 91.28 | 97% |
| 776 | 2020-02-24 21:53:24 | 78.24 | 98% |