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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 956 | 2020-12-06 17:25:14 | 63.52 | 95% |
| 540 | 2020-11-01 20:44:09 | 62.51 | 96% |