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 |
---|---|---|---|
2281 | 2023-01-03 06:31:08 | 100.81 | 96% |
415 | 2020-01-03 08:39:15 | 80.26 | 96% |