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 |
---|---|---|---|
8812 | 2022-12-06 16:11:36 | 74.28 | 97% |
4085 | 2021-07-04 22:46:12 | 64.80 | 98% |
297 | 2020-12-30 19:09:47 | 52.72 | 97% |