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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9419 | 2020-03-11 07:01:11 | 145.09 | 99% |
| 9261 | 2020-03-10 02:40:28 | 147.27 | 99% |