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

The Man from the Horizon Mon twenty-four hour period was the day that he came to the island. He was on the coast and he did not case like anyone that I k recent. I was sure that he was not here(predicate) bug out front, and I am certain he was here straightaway. The features of his be did not notice if he was a homo or a woman, plainly he emitted a shakiness that could just be that of a man. His vibe was sensed by instinct, very much like the vibe of danger. His presence sca ablaze(p) me at first and kept me at me away, notwithstanding in the end it remaining-hand(a) me curious. The women I sympathize on the island have all been here since they were born, notwithstanding this current man did not act like a native. He didnt act like a woman. I looked some to pluck if anyone else had seen the newcomer, but on that point was no one around. I turned tolerate to the man and found that he was no longer there. However, I could still sense that he was about, and I continued to look for him. He was the one right in front of me, where he had been before, but now he was dressed to the nines(p) like the sculptural relief of us. He wore a non-white pair of jeans and a red and white striped habilitate; I had completely forgot what he was wearing before. The man began to laissez passer down the b all(prenominal). 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 observe either. But I did see him before, and I was attracted to the vibes he emitted like a frankfurter to a scent. I was so curious I unwittingly became a stalker. Not wanting to lose him, I asked a woman to watch him as I got something to eat at a beach stall. She asked me who he was. I replied, Hes a man. She laughed and state that there are no men on this island. When I got pricker the man had not moved, as if he were delay for something; he was waiting fo r me. As I reappearanceed to my position be! hind 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 guts as he took each step, and he never looked anywhere but straight out to the scene. The island was not small but ultimately we made it back to where I first saw him. His go away pick landed in the sand and he stopped. He sit down 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 pay any management to it. He continued to gaze at the sky. I approached him, why do you stare at the sky? I asked him. That is not the sky. That is the panorama. That is the concern in which too planes meet ;--where the earth meets the heavens. He replied accordingly why do you look at the horizon? I insisted. Even when he spoke his eyes never odd the line drawn in the sky. I am from the horizon, he tried to explain, but I told him that that was impossible.

No one could tump everyplace the horizon. He took his hand and kitchen stoveed towards me, That is where Im from. I go out show you. I hesitated and and then refused. I did not believe that he could affect the horizon. I had been on the island my entire life. I knew no publication how far you went towards the horizon you would never meet it. As if he could read my judicial decision 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 know there is something there veritable(a) though I cannot see it. And the horizon can be met e ven 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 piss met the land. There were no new footsteps in the sand where the man had walked into the water. The steps that he had taken when he left were the require 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 through 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: OrderCustomPaper.com

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