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 |
---|---|---|---|
1397 | 2021-03-03 08:31:42 | 74.80 | 97% |
928 | 2021-02-20 10:18:05 | 67.29 | 96% |