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 |
---|---|---|---|
1185 | 2022-03-21 06:23:52 | 62.22 | 96% |
614 | 2021-06-07 03:32:48 | 70.46 | 96% |