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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 874 | 2021-08-30 12:56:40 | 72.28 | 97% |
| 398 | 2021-03-26 05:20:14 | 55.11 | 96% |