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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 23513 | 2024-09-20 05:37:36 | 143.57 | 98.9% |
| 19964 | 2024-07-13 17:34:24 | 121.94 | 95.9% |
| 17450 | 2024-06-17 16:25:18 | 128.58 | 99% |
| 7097 | 2024-02-21 22:49:56 | 132.36 | 98.8% |
| 3584 | 2023-10-04 17:38:55 | 116.79 | 98.9% |
| 1078 | 2021-02-27 15:46:53 | 116.94 | 99% |