The door opened and a bright looking Mr. Dong came to view. A voice from outside called him and so he retraced his steps to entertain the person. It was a female teacher Mr. Dong talked to and I couldn't help but want to see the end of the conversation.

I watched as Mr. Dong stood there while he talked to the teacher. I watched as he shook his head politely.

"I'm really sorry," I read from his lips. They then bowed to each other before Mr. Dong walked in the classroom.

"Good morning class," he greeted and I couldn't stop myself from mirroring the smile on his face. The class settled for a second as we greeted him back but my classmates went back to doing their own thing--some read books while some fiddled with their hand phones--as Mr. Dong placed his bag on the table and he brought out his record book.

"What do you think of him:?" I nudged my friend, Seri who was busy drawing something on a piece of paper.

"What?" She asked distractedly and I waited for her to look at me before I motioned towards Mr. Dong. "Oh, the leisure professor," She sighed and she went back to drawing. "I wish he talked about things that do matter." She said unexcitingly.

Well, he talked about something important. It wasn't everyday that you hear such words from your teacher. 

I wanted to defend him but I thought it was useless. I seemed to be the only one who cared about his leisure talk.

I brought my attention back to Mr. Dong and he was just looking at the class, his weight on his hands which were on the table, as if he was waiting for something. I nudged Seri again and she looked up away from the paper, and onto our professor.

Mr. Dong seemed satisfied as he smiled and cleared his throat.

“Do you remember the homework I gave you?” He asked and the class said yes. “Who did it?” He looked around as he stood up straight.

I felt myself tense up as he walked down the platform and smiled.

“No one?” he asked. “Okay, I won’t ask you to recite it. Who did their homework?”

I raised my hand reluctantly and Seri gave me a look.

“What?” I asked her but she didn’t reply.

“You,” he said as he made his way in front of me and he held his palm to me so I gave him the paper.

He gave me a slight smile and he bit his lip as he scanned through my paper. I held my breath in for what felt like ten minutes. Damn, he looked better up close.

“What’s your name?” he asked without looking at me.

“Kim, sir,” I said.

He let out a little laugh and I wondered what was funny.

“What’s your name?” he asked again and he looked at me.

I stared at him blankly for a minute before he nodded with his eyebrows raised in question. “Kim Byul,” I managed to say. My name had never been difficult to pronounce.

 “You don’t mind I read it, right?” he asked and I shook my head. He nodded again and he said the title out loud, “Ten Seconds.”

“To some, ten seconds is gold
To others, a matter of life and death,
To most of us, it is something we take for granted

Maybe it takes ten seconds alone,
Ten seconds to breathe in and out,
Escape from life’s worries

Ten seconds and you missed your train,
Or your bus, or a call
Ten seconds and you’re late

Maybe we need ten seconds more
Or ten seconds less
But why don’t we use it?

“Try it sometime, just ten seconds,”
were the words of a young man
And it got me questioning,
What did ten seconds mean?

Ten seconds is a heartbeat
Or a breath
Or a drink

Ten seconds and the world is different
Ten seconds and I was a robot,
I was living out of customs, of vanity

Ten seconds and perhaps you’ll see what I saw,
Or perhaps you’ll see what you just never looked at.”

He ended the poem with a smile and he looked at the class to see if they listened.

I felt embarrassed because my poem was read aloud. And a poem, for me at least, contained the very heart of a human being. The world just heard my heart, and I even quoted Mr. Dong in that poem.

I knew that my face was red from embarrassment and although I loved Mr. Dong’s smile, I was glad that it wasn’t directed to me.

Fortunately, a student named Seogoong raised his ha