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 |
---|---|---|---|
6404 | 2020-08-24 09:50:27 | 86.08 | 98% |
5305 | 2019-11-28 15:41:02 | 86.20 | 99% |
4990 | 2019-11-07 15:19:22 | 87.22 | 99% |