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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4196 | 2020-04-02 20:26:55 | 86.75 | 97% |
| 2071 | 2020-03-12 21:15:39 | 94.38 | 99% |