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 |
---|---|---|---|
28297 | 2020-09-15 01:17:06 | 150.20 | 98% |
27939 | 2020-08-29 05:42:36 | 145.04 | 97% |
27703 | 2020-08-20 12:08:58 | 145.49 | 98% |