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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10914 | 2024-04-22 07:54:15 | 105.22 | 97.1% |
| 10736 | 2024-04-16 18:00:29 | 122.24 | 98.2% |
| 9929 | 2024-03-28 16:10:31 | 118.65 | 96.9% |
| 8754 | 2024-02-06 16:29:32 | 109.12 | 96% |
| 3134 | 2021-05-16 12:10:24 | 87.30 | 96% |
| 2974 | 2021-05-13 09:32:46 | 97.99 | 97% |