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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10211 | 2021-08-20 10:47:50 | 84.16 | 96% |
| 9030 | 2021-06-29 10:56:30 | 91.85 | 97% |
| 8206 | 2021-06-14 14:22:58 | 90.74 | 96% |
| 8157 | 2021-06-14 05:15:56 | 99.50 | 98% |
| 4441 | 2021-04-10 02:28:34 | 99.88 | 98% |
| 2046 | 2021-02-24 01:06:46 | 78.99 | 96.2% |