Jasmine and her tiger
It was a hot day, like any other in the desert, the sun scorching the sky, and the relentless heat blurring the horizon ahead. The road plotted it's straight, black course through the tawny dunes, who incessantly tried, minute, by minute, to swallow the asphalt surface below it, the shifting sands forever etching new landscapes in the barren stretches between Agrabah and the other cities of the great desert.
Jasmine leaned against Rajah's shiny orange body and soaked in the magnificent, endless sky, and the blue stillness of the gulf, it's minute waves lapping at the shore. Farther off, she saw the faint outlines of the many ships, mostly tankers, which plied the gulf, delivering liquid treasures to all the far off nations of the world.
Jasmine liked to come out here and be alone, to reminicse about how her land was in the days of her great-grandparents, before the liquid gold was discovered. It was so much simpler then, and she loved looking at the old paintings, especially the one with her great grandmother, from whom she inherited her name, and her tiger, who had given his name to Jasmine's "tiger", a 1968 Pontiac GTO. The car itself was a constant reminder of how much Agrabah had changed in such a short time. Even now, she could gaze out from the palace windows and see the city seemingly change by the hour. Where there once were abodes and sandy streets now resided the tallest buildings the world had ever seen, and even taller structures planned. The sandy streets were replaced with broad avenues, choked with vehicles of all kinds, of which were rare even in the time of her parent's youth. It was still amazing to her how much the West had influenced her nation....Jasmine herself being a prime example. She wore her hair down, was wearing tight jeans and drove a classic American automobile. Yes, tradition still held in some of the more conservative sects, but Agrabah was at the forefront of the Nation's westernization, where some 90% of it's population were now foreign born. She was happy for the success of her country, but still was enchanted by the magical tales of how her great-grandparents met...flying around on magic carpets and saving the kingdom with the help of a Genie. Ahh, the stuff of grand dreams.
A breeze gently blew by, and whipped her lovely black hair into her face. As she brought a hand up to brush her hair from her eyes, she noticed her watch, and that it was time to get back to the palace.
She opened Rajah's door, got in, and turned the key. Rajah's mill roared to life and settled to a rough, blatty, impatient idle, with faint supercharger whine audible above the clacking of the solid lifters.
She had built Rajah from the ground up (another area where she was different most girls), and he was one mean tiger. Jasmine estimated that Rajah had more than 600hp in his possession, but refused to drop him off at a dyno shop, she trusted nobody's hands on him other than hers. Her ongoing passion with the car was a sore spot with her father, who wondered why she didn't pursue more traditional things; such as a suitor. She tossed her hair back, buckled in, and snicked Rajas's shifter into First. It wasn't that she wasn't looking, but c'mon, most of the guys she met couldn't even drive a stick-shift, let alone keep up with her intellect. They were all self-obsessed prigs that afforded her less respect than they granted her car, and some of them lusted after Rajah more than they did her. For now, the car was the closest thing to a man she was gonna have.
She eased out the clutch, feeling the torque from the Big-block push her back into the seat, and eased onto the highway heading toward the city. She felt a slight surge upon acceleration and made a mental note to herself to fine tune the acceleration enrichment on the custom EFI system that she built, and programmed, herself. Jasmine sighed to herself, knowing full well that if it weren't for her station, she would have her own speed shop by now, but the reality was she had much more important things to think about, being the head of a kingdom and all. Jasmine checked all the gauges, making sure that Rajah was ready to stretch his legs. Seeing nothing abnormal, she downshifted to Second and gave him the reins that he was so impatiently waiting for. With a triumphant roar, Rajah leapt forward, smoke pouring from his 10 inch wide rear tires. The shift light flashed it's blinding red warning, Jasmine hit third, and she whooped with joy as Rajah's heart climbed through it's powerband, the road's lines blurring into one. 4th gear now, and the speedometer had passed it's maximum indication.....RPM still climbing, wind now blowing Jasmine's hair all askew. As the adrenaline coursed through her veins, she couldn't help but think that while there is much important work to be done, for these 10 seconds, only one thing mattered, and that was Jasmine and her tiger.
The End