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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3493 | 2025-04-01 20:34:41 | 83.20 | 95.2% |
| 2805 | 2025-01-31 13:35:59 | 91.32 | 95.6% |