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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5495 | 2020-10-03 03:08:51 | 85.17 | 98% |
| 5388 | 2020-09-29 05:26:29 | 88.15 | 98% |
| 1195 | 2020-05-16 11:35:26 | 66.97 | 97% |