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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3263 | 2020-05-31 12:45:28 | 96.06 | 100% |
| 1971 | 2020-04-16 18:40:48 | 106.16 | 100% |