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 |
---|---|---|---|
2424 | 2020-11-19 21:11:11 | 93.30 | 99% |
2393 | 2020-11-19 16:39:57 | 96.71 | 98% |