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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 706 | 2020-04-28 02:27:12 | 63.53 | 96% |
| 287 | 2020-02-20 09:03:43 | 48.37 | 96% |