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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2804 | 2020-06-29 21:25:23 | 80.71 | 95% |
| 2561 | 2020-06-15 22:54:11 | 88.76 | 98% |