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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9880 | 2025-08-17 18:55:27 | 71.12 | 98% |
| 8953 | 2025-07-31 13:57:56 | 86.70 | 98% |