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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5042 | 2020-12-13 05:52:26 | 84.75 | 97% |
| 3475 | 2019-12-18 21:51:04 | 81.40 | 99% |