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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5535 | 2021-07-16 03:58:54 | 94.82 | 95% |
| 2009 | 2020-02-16 19:54:17 | 98.68 | 98% |