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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2978 | 2021-05-14 08:58:02 | 97.47 | 97% |
| 1692 | 2020-09-11 15:41:35 | 105.20 | 98% |
| 509 | 2020-01-01 17:13:31 | 96.51 | 97% |