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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8130 | 2025-10-03 01:44:07 | 131.74 | 98% |
| 7825 | 2025-09-12 11:53:06 | 120.28 | 98% |
| 2487 | 2024-04-25 07:04:07 | 141.31 | 99.1% |
| 2196 | 2024-04-12 13:39:29 | 125.96 | 99.7% |