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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2150 | 2021-01-04 06:24:50 | 81.32 | 96% |
| 1021 | 2020-09-30 03:49:46 | 74.72 | 96% |
| 576 | 2020-08-26 04:40:49 | 74.39 | 96% |