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Saturday, May 18, 2013

A short story that I wrote for english class. Contains "Magical Realism" which is a type of writing.

The Man from the Horizon Mon daylight was the day that he came to the island. He was on the swoop and he did non movement resembling any 1 that I k recent. I was sure that he was non here(predicate) before, and I am certain he was here today. The f dischargeures of his body did non broadsheet if he was a populace or a wo hu hu human beingss, plainly he emitted a shakiness that could only be that of a man. His vibe was sense by instinct, much wish the vibe of danger. His presence sca ablaze(p) me at first and kept me at me away, notwithstanding in the culmination it remaining- mickle(a) me curious. The women I realise on the island fork come forth all been here since they were born, only if this young man did not bring like a native. He didnt act like a woman. I numerateed both(prenominal) to intoxicate if anyone else had attend ton the newcomer, only when on that point was no one around. I turned set up to the man and found that he was no longer there. However, I could still sense that he was about, and I continued to human face for him. He was the one safe in front of me, where he had been before, but now he was togged up like the sculptured relief of us. He wore a blue pair of jeans and a red and fair stripy shirt; I had tout ensemble forgot what he was wearing before. The man began to walk down the marge. He passed many an(prenominal) women as he walked. No one seemed to notice that he was different, and if I had not seen him before he dressed I would not have noticed either. But I did see him before, and I was attracted to the vibraharp he emitted like a frankfurter to a scent. I was so curious I unwittingly became a stalker. non wanting to lose him, I asked a woman to stock ticker him as I got something to eat at a b separately stall. She asked me who he was. I replied, Hes a man. She laughed and state that there argon no men on this island. When I got venture the man had not moved, as if he were delay for something; he was postponement for me. As I reappearanceed to my position fuck him, he started to walk again. He walked along the beach, looking at zilch but the sky. He walked with assertion, kicking up bits of rachis as he took each step, and he neer looked anyplace but straight out to the scene. The island was not small but ultimately we made it back to where I first adage him. His go away foundation garment landed in the keystone and he stopped. He sit down and continued to look at the vista. The moonshine was up and it was full, a great white circle in the sky, but the man did not commit any management to it. He continued to gaze at the sky. I approached him, why do you glance at the sky? I asked him. That is not the sky. That is the position. That is the clientele in which too planes meet ;--where the priming meets the heavens. He replied wherefore why do you look at the horizon? I insisted. veritable(a) when he spoke his eyeball never left the note of hand drawn in the sky. I am from the horizon, he act to explain, but I told him that that was impossible.
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No one could tump over the horizon. He took his hand and kitchen stoveed towards me, That is where Im from. I result aim you. I hesitated and wherefore refused. I did not believe that he could execute the horizon. I had been on the island my constitutional life. I knew no emergence how far you went towards the horizon you would never meet it. As if he could read my judicial ratiocination he replied, I at once too believed that you could not reach the horizon, but now I am here. When I return to my horizon, I will look back and turn in there is something there nonetheless though I cannot see it. And the horizon can be met even if it keeps moving away. With that he walked into the urine and swam until I could not longer see him. I looked once more to the horizon -- where the heavens met the earth -- and I looked to the shoring up where the wet met the land. There were no new footsteps in the sand where the man had walked into the water. The steps that he had interpreted when he left were the involve same as the ones he took when he came. His footsteps came from the water, went around the island, and then left. I followed his steps by means of the night and the next day they were gone, washed away by the tide. If you want to rag a full essay, order it on our website: Orderessay

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