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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 562 | 2020-09-21 12:07:15 | 63.71 | 95% |
| 473 | 2020-08-26 06:06:20 | 60.91 | 96% |