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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1480 | 2021-02-27 11:02:07 | 44.07 | 92.8% |
| 870 | 2020-12-04 12:39:01 | 50.09 | 95% |