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 |
---|---|---|---|
1456 | 2021-04-11 11:47:01 | 115.36 | 97% |
565 | 2020-10-07 06:05:05 | 85.16 | 97% |