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 |
---|---|---|---|
932 | 2020-12-30 22:50:43 | 105.61 | 97% |
204 | 2020-11-02 03:17:08 | 96.70 | 97% |