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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1588 | 2020-01-13 14:48:36 | 93.90 | 97% |
| 743 | 2019-10-18 16:39:29 | 82.84 | 95% |
| 537 | 2019-09-28 17:20:25 | 101.36 | 98% |