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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 409 | 2022-01-05 09:58:50 | 54.67 | 98% |
| 368 | 2022-01-03 11:13:20 | 52.58 | 96% |