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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6441 | 2025-06-09 18:41:28 | 97.83 | 97% |
| 4528 | 2025-03-07 13:13:19 | 87.01 | 95% |
| 2085 | 2024-11-25 19:22:25 | 77.10 | 96.3% |
| 1010 | 2024-09-24 21:34:55 | 72.66 | 95.4% |