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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4161 | 2025-02-08 15:54:21 | 112.02 | 98.6% |
| 575 | 2024-12-25 13:20:40 | 90.92 | 97.9% |