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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 16744 | 2025-05-30 05:40:42 | 83.93 | 98% |
| 15141 | 2025-05-13 15:06:49 | 77.90 | 96.9% |
| 13218 | 2025-04-24 00:02:21 | 77.77 | 96.5% |
| 12912 | 2025-04-18 00:57:13 | 80.62 | 98.3% |
| 8743 | 2025-02-10 02:21:27 | 87.91 | 97.8% |
| 7359 | 2025-01-14 16:06:20 | 80.13 | 96.8% |
| 3971 | 2024-11-15 04:50:39 | 88.70 | 98% |
| 2937 | 2024-10-21 00:11:22 | 79.61 | 97.3% |
| 5 | 2024-09-10 23:27:17 | 84.14 | 97.4% |