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 |
---|---|---|---|
2811 | 2021-01-10 01:12:47 | 85.62 | 97% |
1098 | 2020-09-03 06:08:01 | 67.61 | 95% |