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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4535 | 2022-12-30 04:53:48 | 113.28 | 99% |
| 3729 | 2021-07-17 01:30:39 | 106.91 | 99% |
| 3128 | 2021-04-11 06:17:16 | 104.45 | 99% |
| 2571 | 2021-02-12 23:24:30 | 98.52 | 98.9% |
| 2257 | 2021-02-04 19:59:54 | 107.47 | 98.8% |
| 1792 | 2021-01-24 03:02:55 | 99.80 | 99% |
| 1573 | 2021-01-15 19:37:50 | 88.56 | 97% |