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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2249 | 2020-12-31 14:48:19 | 88.16 | 96% |
| 1194 | 2020-11-12 08:40:04 | 76.60 | 97% |
| 659 | 2020-10-27 08:30:33 | 60.35 | 95% |