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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10333 | 2021-11-13 12:38:00 | 87.34 | 96% |
| 9838 | 2021-11-02 16:45:46 | 76.89 | 97% |
| 7348 | 2021-09-22 04:40:14 | 80.81 | 98% |
| 7336 | 2021-09-22 04:28:49 | 83.10 | 98% |
| 7001 | 2021-09-14 01:27:31 | 81.78 | 96% |
| 6524 | 2021-09-02 17:17:33 | 69.25 | 95% |
| 4982 | 2021-08-11 10:10:19 | 78.16 | 97% |