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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1524 | 2024-04-25 14:00:20 | 121.58 | 97.5% |
| 844 | 2024-01-08 16:16:48 | 111.63 | 97% |