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 |
---|---|---|---|
5619 | 2022-01-06 00:25:30 | 60.94 | 97% |
4515 | 2021-03-29 12:57:12 | 64.51 | 96% |