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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 11781 | 2022-06-03 20:56:50 | 100.45 | 97% |
| 8639 | 2020-12-03 14:53:45 | 112.45 | 99% |
| 7078 | 2020-10-23 07:54:39 | 101.68 | 98% |