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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 13696 | 2024-02-09 22:32:45 | 101.02 | 97% |
| 13586 | 2024-02-06 11:26:32 | 103.14 | 97% |
| 13570 | 2024-02-06 11:13:27 | 97.14 | 97% |
| 10617 | 2023-10-08 18:29:53 | 67.62 | 96.3% |
| 5227 | 2020-08-21 12:54:50 | 87.02 | 97% |
| 2662 | 2020-05-15 06:14:54 | 90.75 | 96% |