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 |
---|---|---|---|
1982 | 2023-12-03 17:32:19 | 116.45 | 98.2% |
1678 | 2023-10-02 20:39:09 | 114.70 | 98% |