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 |
---|---|---|---|
2316 | 2020-09-07 19:31:33 | 85.26 | 97% |
271 | 2020-03-30 03:57:11 | 53.97 | 95% |