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 |
---|---|---|---|
3716 | 2020-05-15 12:05:16 | 76.84 | 96% |
2784 | 2020-03-10 14:13:03 | 75.44 | 98% |