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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 483 | 2020-12-10 23:47:08 | 132.88 | 97% |
| 471 | 2020-12-10 19:46:53 | 131.49 | 97% |