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 |
---|---|---|---|
1961 | 2022-05-04 07:03:05 | 103.21 | 99% |
1678 | 2022-02-24 08:47:38 | 105.73 | 98% |
195 | 2020-10-21 06:25:43 | 101.64 | 98% |