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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 423 | 2022-01-14 09:58:13 | 60.86 | 95% |
| 364 | 2022-01-13 14:46:30 | 58.50 | 95% |