I enter the building, noticing that there was a man with dark-brown hair, plump pink lips, and talks in a dialect. His teeth were perfectly align, which made his smile more than radiant. He slowly came up to me and said, "Omo, you! Is that you? It's been so long!" How did he know my name?

Notes, notes, notes, notes. I swear, the teacher talks so fast that I don't believe he's human. It's almost as if he doesn't know what a comma is. I look back and forth from my notebook and on the blackboard, rapidly writing down the things he's writing as he talks. I could care less about what he says, it's just that it's so distracting and I can't quite concentrate. He finally stopped writing so I could catch up. But right at the moment the chalk was pu