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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6806 | 2025-02-12 18:32:36 | 112.89 | 97.8% |
| 3661 | 2024-07-18 20:51:47 | 119.50 | 98.3% |
| 877 | 2023-05-26 01:36:36 | 105.51 | 97.6% |