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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4786 | 2024-03-28 14:59:35 | 70.24 | 97.6% |
| 4211 | 2022-12-08 08:35:47 | 73.92 | 98% |