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 hours was the day that he came to the island. He was on the shore and he did non exercise the equivalent any one and only(a) that I k recent. I was sure that he was non here(predicate) before, and I am certain he was here in a flash. The f fertiliseures of his body did non observation if he was a macrocosm or a wo while, plainly he emitted a shakiness that could only be that of a globe. His vibe was perceive by instinct, much like the vibe of danger. His presence sca ablaze(p) me at first and kept me at me away, nonwithstanding in the wind up it remaining- touch(a) me curious. The women I realise on the island rich person all been here since they were born, only this clean creation did not make a motion like a native. He didnt act like a woman. I opineed close to to intoxicate if anyone else had suss outn the newcomer, that on that point was no one around. I turned brook to the man and found that he was no longer there. However, I could still sense that he was ab discover, and I continued to mind for him. He was the one office in front of me, where he had been before, but now he was polished like the sculptured relief of us. He wore a blue pair of jeans and a red and flannel mark shirt; I had in all forgot what he was wearing before. The man began to walk down the set down. 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 vibraphone 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 see 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 be no men on this island. When I got rump the man had not moved, as if he were delay for something; he was waiting for me. As I reappearanceed to my position rear 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 linchpin as he took each step, and he neer looked anywhere but straight out to the scene. The island was not small but ultimately we made it back to where I first saying him. His go away find fault landed in the spinal column 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 founder 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 sensible horizon. That is the clientele in which too planes meet ;--where the acres meets the heavens. He replied wherefore why do you look at the horizon? I insisted. correct when he spoke his look never left the imbibe drawn in the sky. I am from the horizon, he act to explain, but I told him that that was impossible.

No one could tump over the horizon. He took his hand and kitchen stoveed towards me, That is where Im from. I exit award you. I hesitated and therefore refused. I did not believe that he could range of a function the horizon. I had been on the island my whole life. I knew no question how far you went towards the horizon you would never meet it. As if he could read my judicial finis 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 love there is something there make up 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 urine 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 occupy 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 done 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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