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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 832 | 2021-07-07 03:11:02 | 52.99 | 94% |
| 710 | 2021-07-03 14:21:28 | 58.23 | 95% |
| 121 | 2021-06-04 16:00:51 | 51.90 | 95% |