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 |
---|---|---|---|
12872 | 2020-10-30 13:56:33 | 92.85 | 96% |
11093 | 2020-03-07 17:42:24 | 64.88 | 95% |
10035 | 2020-02-17 14:53:13 | 87.81 | 98% |
8095 | 2019-12-11 21:58:54 | 77.32 | 97% |
5954 | 2019-10-09 16:15:59 | 65.73 | 95% |