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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3813 | 2020-08-16 13:41:49 | 61.76 | 95% |
| 3811 | 2020-08-16 09:08:23 | 71.60 | 96% |
| 3694 | 2020-08-14 08:17:01 | 73.83 | 98% |
| 2575 | 2020-07-01 08:45:13 | 63.51 | 96% |
| 889 | 2020-04-08 10:43:40 | 52.98 | 96% |