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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 593 | 2022-02-26 08:33:11 | 54.47 | 96% |
| 347 | 2022-02-10 09:51:45 | 50.49 | 96% |