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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2287 | 2022-04-30 15:42:30 | 111.20 | 97% |
| 1106 | 2020-10-23 13:42:36 | 105.39 | 97% |