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 |
---|---|---|---|
3168 | 2020-09-30 15:20:56 | 67.32 | 95% |
2271 | 2020-09-10 14:25:46 | 71.12 | 98% |
1654 | 2020-09-02 13:47:24 | 74.85 | 99% |