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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 11254 | 2020-11-29 15:40:13 | 105.90 | 97% |
| 10828 | 2019-11-22 07:27:26 | 107.37 | 96% |
| 10596 | 2019-11-15 00:54:38 | 103.28 | 96% |