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 |
---|---|---|---|
2397 | 2023-06-10 11:26:10 | 56.69 | 95% |
1877 | 2023-04-13 08:01:43 | 55.13 | 95% |