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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2756 | 2020-09-23 16:35:51 | 62.50 | 96% |
| 1709 | 2020-07-07 00:58:32 | 53.18 | 95% |
| 1670 | 2020-06-29 19:26:43 | 57.44 | 97% |