Time plays a major part in both stories. How is time different in these two stories?

1. imaginary persons in a novel believable characters 2. characterization long prose narrative 3. real in the fictional world of the novel creation of characters 4. the novel world of fiction 5. world of the novel characters i need the answer

Read the excerpt from the land. in the late afternoon i did the same, but all the time i was on the stallion, i was aware that mitchell was watching me. he had appeared on the edge of the woods and had just stood there watching ghost wind and me as we went round and round the meadow. finally, on one of our turns past him, he said: "s'pose you thinkin' you a real somebody 'cause you can ride that stallion." i looked down at mitchell and stopped, knowing that despite our understanding, he was itching for a fight with me. now, i don't know what possessed me in that moment to say the next thing i did. maybe i was feeling guilty that because i was my daddy's son, i could ride ghost wind. maybe it was that, but it wasn't out of fear i said what i said. i no longer was afraid of mitchell. "you want to ride him? " i asked. mitchell took a step backward. it was obvious he hadn't expected me to say that. "you know i can't ride him," he said. "your white daddy'd kill me." "you want to ride him? " i asked again. mitchell looked at the stallion, then at me. "so, what if i do? " what intrinsic motivation does the author most likely intend the reader to infer from the passage? paul is motivated by his need to have mitchell praise his riding skills. mitchell is motivated by his need to have paul praise his riding skills. paul is motivated by jealousy and wishes he had free time like mitchell. mitchell is motivated by jealousy and wishes he could ride the horse.

Industrialization in europe changed the way people lived. the urban working class came into being, and with it came the drudgery of work. which two parts of this excerpt from franz kafka's the metamorphosis most closely reflect this impact of industrialization on people's lives? "what's happened to me? " he thought. it wasn't a dream. his room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. a collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table—samsa was a travelling salesman—and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. it showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer. gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad. "how about if i sleep a little bit longer and forget all this nonsense," he thought, but that was something he was unable to do because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present state couldn't get into that position. however hard he threw himself onto his right, he always rolled back to where he was. he must have tried it a hundred times, shut his eyes so that he wouldn't have to look at the floundering legs, and only stopped when he began to feel a mild, dull pain there that he had never felt before. "oh, no", he thought, "what a strenuous career it is that i've chosen! travelling day in and day out. doing business like this takes much more effort than doing your own business at home, and on top of that there's the curse of travelling, worries about making train connections, bad and irregular food, contact with different people all the time so that you can never get to know anyone or become friendly with them. they can all go away! " he felt a slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself slowly up on his back towards the headboard so that he could lift his head better; found where the itch was, and saw that it was covered with lots of little white spots which he didn't know what to make of; and when he tried to feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly back because as soon as he touched it he was overcome by a cold shudder. he slid back into his former position. "getting up early all the time", he thought, "it makes you stupid. you've got to get enough sleep. other travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. for instance, whenever i go back to the guest house during the morning to copy out the contract, these gentlemen are always still sitting there eating their breakfasts. i ought to just try that with my boss; i'd get kicked out on the spot. but who knows, maybe that would be the best thing for me. if i didn't have my parents to think about i'd have given in my notice a long time ago, i'd have gone up to the boss and told him just what i think, tell him everything i would, let him know just what i feel."