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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2905 | 2025-08-12 03:06:27 | 101.93 | 99% |
| 930 | 2025-07-28 03:09:50 | 88.97 | 97% |