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 |
---|---|---|---|
2167 | 2020-06-21 13:10:05 | 85.25 | 97% |
1857 | 2020-05-31 12:45:29 | 93.93 | 98% |