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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 25959 | 2022-04-07 01:37:31 | 103.68 | 98% |
| 21635 | 2020-12-20 22:19:29 | 111.30 | 97% |
| 21239 | 2020-12-13 01:22:10 | 119.47 | 98% |
| 17462 | 2020-10-17 02:44:00 | 133.61 | 99% |
| 17058 | 2020-10-11 04:21:39 | 130.53 | 99% |
| 16145 | 2020-09-28 04:17:07 | 114.07 | 98% |
| 15679 | 2020-09-15 03:41:55 | 110.15 | 98% |
| 14297 | 2020-08-27 14:57:54 | 110.45 | 97% |
| 11372 | 2020-07-31 20:56:46 | 124.28 | 98% |
| 7765 | 2020-01-21 04:03:37 | 125.01 | 99% |