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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9859 | 2021-01-17 07:25:16 | 59.56 | 95% |
| 9038 | 2020-12-17 20:32:50 | 80.42 | 99% |
| 8769 | 2020-12-15 18:41:58 | 65.71 | 96% |
| 8747 | 2020-12-15 00:26:09 | 74.01 | 97% |
| 6581 | 2020-11-21 19:45:54 | 68.94 | 97% |
| 4430 | 2020-10-29 23:38:32 | 73.03 | 98% |