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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4226 | 2025-11-05 02:00:26 | 96.96 | 96% |
| 4116 | 2025-10-27 23:39:40 | 115.67 | 98% |
| 3344 | 2025-07-12 19:35:33 | 105.53 | 97% |
| 826 | 2025-01-24 22:15:26 | 96.90 | 96.8% |