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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1862 | 2022-11-24 09:02:58 | 85.52 | 98% |
| 1475 | 2022-01-19 05:38:42 | 80.06 | 98% |