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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2050 | 2020-10-28 04:02:37 | 91.58 | 98% |
| 1722 | 2020-08-25 06:23:57 | 83.81 | 98% |
| 664 | 2020-03-31 13:54:43 | 73.05 | 97% |