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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3285 | 2025-05-15 16:56:13 | 83.98 | 98% |
| 3076 | 2025-04-29 11:11:59 | 76.51 | 96.4% |