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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5223 | 2024-01-22 18:10:03 | 74.27 | 95% |
| 4552 | 2022-08-09 20:31:43 | 77.22 | 96% |
| 4461 | 2022-07-23 00:37:49 | 80.79 | 96% |
| 448 | 2021-08-17 11:41:11 | 54.38 | 96% |