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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 324780 | 2025-07-06 23:38:01 | 125.86 | 97% |
| 322582 | 2025-07-05 03:34:09 | 90.33 | 95% |
| 309430 | 2025-06-19 23:39:42 | 119.08 | 99% |
| 297104 | 2025-05-29 16:57:05 | 98.92 | 96.6% |