A short, personal biography of 1859

My Super-7, little 1859, was born in South Africa February of 2000. As soon as she was old enough to travel, she joined a small number of her siblings as they sailed across the Atlantic Ocean in April of 2000. They traveled in new, custom made "private" compartments. As the journey progressed anticipation filled her little compartment. She sensed a great adventure playing out before her. Every fiber of her being whether aluminum, rubber or steel trembled as she slowly journeyed forward into her future.

Little 1859 arrived in the US in Houston(?) Texas. After scrutiny from the cold book keepers of the port authority, she set out on the second leg of her journey. Little 1859 traveled to Dallas and finally to Austin Texas.

In Austin she was separated from her closest sibling for the first time. She was terrified. Alone in a strange land. No driver to call her own. She felt as if she had been orphaned. Her twin was being pampered and loved and carefully maintained and admired by all who had the privilege of seeing her in all of her glory.

Luckily, Little 1859 did not know about the good life her sister was enjoying, Little 1859 had been left to languished inside a dark room. Her owner had stored her safely out of the hot Texas sun, protected her from the harsh Texas weather but had also hidden her for sight. As thankful as she should have been Little 1859 grieved silently as she wondered what she had done so wrong that she had to be kept locked in solitary confinement.

True, at that time she had no heart, but she still had her soul. The soul of a race breed Super-7. She wanted nothing more than to bring happiness to a driver and put smiles on the faces of those she passed and feel the flash of the hot asphalt beneath her tires as she turned and twisted, changing directions in the blink of an eye and she speed down one black ribbon of asphalt after another. Little 1859 yearned for freedom, for strong heart and to hear the bubbling roar of her own voice but mostly, she simply yearned to be free.

Her yearning and dreams of freedom continued, first for days, then weeks, then months. Slowly the months turned into years. She sat, locked away from a world. Locked away from a destine she yearned to know.

One day, after years of waiting, she was rolled from her prison. The door that occasionally opened, only to be closed again, remained open this time. She was slowly rolled out into the hot summer sun. She bristled at the touch of the suns rays. She had felt them in the past only to be returned to her prison cell. But this time was different. She stretched her legs a little and rolled on to a strange, new carrier. A new journey began. She smiled as she was carried forward with the hope a new, better life ahead.

Three days and 1800 miles later, her feet again felt the pavement. She had left the narrow confines of a Texas prison for a serene valley nestled against a steeply sloping edge of the Rocky Mountains of Utah. She was now half a world away from where she was born as she rolled happily to her new home. People smiled at her. She often had visitors who smiled as the looked upon her. Their eyes twinkled as they talked about her. She felt good. The best she had felt in years. She almost felt guilty as she silently pleaded for one more thing: she wanted a heart.

She had dreamed about a heart for years. Since the first days of her life when she had been given her soul. She had heard stories about the hearts that she and her siblings would received. She wondered what it would be like to have both a heart and a soul. She wondered if she would have a strong heart or a weak heart. Still, she was happy to see each day. Her new home included windows and light and warmth and continued protection from the harsh elements. It was so much more than the darkness she had experienced for the last three years.

And yet, she yearned for a heart.

Little 1859 was beginning to accept the thought of a life without the heart she had so desired. Her new room seemed nice. And she had so many more visitors. There was one visitor who seemed to return more often than the others. One who seemed to sense her soul. One who seemed to share her dreams of what she could be rather than simply admiring her for how she looked. One who often touched her in a special way, a way to reached deeply, almost to her soul. One who seemed to wished, just as Little 1859 wished, that she had a heart.

Then, almost suddenly, that huge void within her was filled! She wasn't sure, but she thought to herself, "I finally had a heart!" She knew that a heart should not be silent, but this one did not beat. "Still", she thought, "at least I have a HEART!"

As with any great surgery, the heart was much more complicated that she had originally thought. Wires, hoses, cables and things. Belts and pulleys and fuel and oil. Things that were so strange to her, but yet, things that stirred her and felt natural to her soul. The weight of her heart was more than she had expected, but much less than she had feared. She was beginning to feel complete. She wanted to stretch her muscles. She wanted to run and dance with the asphalt. She wanted to chase the sun and discover the world she could just glimpse through the windows of her new home.

She wanted to feel the feel of confident hands urging her to unleash the spirit of her soul and the power of her heart. She wanted to sing a song of power and pleasure and strength. She wanted to be held in hands that were confident enough to let her reach of world but strong enough to keep her safe.

She dreamed the dreams of her heritage. Of seeing and being seen. Of winning. Of life. If only her heart were alive.

To be continued...


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