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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 17474 | 2025-02-03 20:12:14 | 63.77 | 96.6% |
| 12647 | 2024-08-16 19:36:25 | 71.85 | 95.4% |
| 12264 | 2024-08-13 10:19:57 | 93.96 | 99.1% |
| 11578 | 2024-07-31 17:18:14 | 88.71 | 97.7% |
| 10306 | 2024-07-06 18:44:50 | 94.18 | 98.8% |
| 10173 | 2024-07-03 19:22:38 | 97.49 | 98.8% |
| 7093 | 2024-04-21 11:03:57 | 82.91 | 97.1% |
| 1471 | 2021-09-02 11:07:53 | 64.97 | 96% |
| 1255 | 2021-08-23 06:23:56 | 59.84 | 95% |