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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1922 | 2020-11-01 09:12:31 | 101.03 | 99% |
| 1025 | 2020-10-07 06:05:03 | 89.82 | 98% |
| 825 | 2020-10-04 03:19:47 | 97.96 | 98% |