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 |
---|---|---|---|
5191 | 2020-10-05 18:10:33 | 112.45 | 97% |
1398 | 2020-02-06 06:46:57 | 101.13 | 98% |
1185 | 2020-01-23 04:45:51 | 98.62 | 97% |