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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3091 | 2025-06-24 09:00:53 | 108.50 | 97% |
| 1725 | 2024-03-03 14:54:50 | 85.99 | 95.8% |
| 373 | 2022-10-27 14:43:36 | 76.61 | 97% |
| 58 | 2022-06-10 09:31:53 | 73.77 | 96% |