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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7836 | 2020-09-20 12:51:51 | 90.74 | 96% |
| 6356 | 2020-07-27 11:21:15 | 86.24 | 95% |
| 1595 | 2020-05-11 19:01:19 | 45.20 | 91% |