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 |
---|---|---|---|
261 | 2020-09-18 17:27:36 | 96.82 | 97% |
213 | 2020-09-15 03:41:58 | 101.08 | 98% |