Hi kids, my name is Nataly Adler.
I am 49 years old, also born in 1957 but I am a black with white top and lines on both sides as a Chevrolet Chevy BelAir car; Who is already going to end my 40s soon. My parents passed away due to low fuel efficiency last year..., and I never took the chance to apologize for the last argument about my love that I've already moved out of their home for 3 years. After hearing about their passing, I began arranging their funeral burial at my older brother, Morgan Adler, or in his church, as Father Adler's; He knew that I would regret it but he was there to comfort me when I needed him the most. By the time, the funeral ended I went to the airport to say my goodbyes to Morgan and headed back to New York.
It was Christmas day when it happened, it has been one year since their passing; Still regret not seeing them one last time, and what does a car do when they're in grief? Working, I have been working non-stop for the past generations in New York since it began to rise, and I work at one of the best newspaper companies called "NEW YORK TIMES"; Worst days of my life were getting sick or the grief of my parents passing, but I was damn well good at hiding it just with a smile. And on one of my best days, I go to Johnny Rocket's dinner every night to earn myself a well-deserved price of success in my assignments; As if right now, I am now doing research on one of the best histories of every small town in America.
Life is simple, but a bit boring... That was gonna change the moment my boss called me over to his office: "Ms. Adler, I need to speak to you in my office, please." Mr. Matthew's voice was on speaker and closed it which made everyone in the room freeze, because they know how important an assignment cannot be missed or failed by my tires (my hands) is my boss since day 1, and we both share a mutual respect for one another since I worked as a rookie.
As I entered my boss's office, I noticed a severe expression on Mr. Matthew's face. I closed the door behind her and sat, waiting for him to speak: "Ms. Adler," Mr. Matthews began, "I have something to tell you..." "What is it, Mr. Matthew? Is there something I need to do?" But the moment I asked that question, my boss's response was one of my life's most shocking news: "I think it's high time that you retire." My yellow eyes widened in shock. The monotony of my everyday life was about to be replaced with a boring and non-adventure filled with unfascinated tales that are waiting for me to be discovered by new and enthusiastic journalists.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Retirement? Me? The thought had never crossed my mind. I had dedicated my entire life to my career, pouring my heart and soul into my work. The news hit me like a ton of bricks, and I felt a mix of emotions swirling inside me.
"But... but why, Mr. Matthews?" I managed to stammer, trying to process the information.
Mr. Matthews sighed and leaned back on his tires, his gaze fixed on me: "Nataly, you've been an exceptional journalist. Your dedication, passion, and talent have made a significant impact on the company. But you've been pushing yourself too hard, working tirelessly without taking a break. It's time for you to take a step back and enjoy the fruits of your labor. You deserve to live a life outside these office walls." His words resonated with me, and deep down, I knew he was right. I had been neglecting my personal life, burying myself in work to fill the void left by my parents' passing. I had become a workaholic, always striving for success but forgetting to live, my mind raced with the possibility of retiring from my job would mean that I would no longer work and have to face my reality, my engine felt damaged mentally:
"Think of it as if I am giving you a retirement-farewell gift. He smiles proudly: "To head to California for your vacation well-earned." 'This is not right, I cannot lose this job.' I thought by mentally hurt because of how much I loved my job other than loving someone. "No, Mr. Matthew Tomas." I coldly stopped him, he gulped before he coughed out in disbelief: "Excuse me?"
"You heard me, son. I move closer to his desk with a dangerous look that he only knows how mad I can be when something is off: "I am not going to leave with a simple vacation way-out ticket like the rest of the old cars like me, and I INSIST on doing one more research on one more small town, or I will not let your workers survive my research." My boss was hesitant but he never thought of me being very persistent, I calmly smile at Matthew which earned him to sigh in defeat: "Okay, you win."
He went over to open one of the files of all the research, and I watched him with narrowing eyes at his roof until he fiddled to bring out a file and places them in front of me, to which I glance down to look at them and it read as he begins explaining, "I have this old letter from received a request from our readers for a series of articles highlighting the rich histories of small towns across America. I know you always embrace a journey across the country, visiting different towns and uncovering their unique stories but, this! He points at the picture of a town called: "Radiator Springs is a place where you need to go and give it to me."
"Really? In that case, I can go there-" Cut off short by Mr. Matthew slamming his tire to the floor which caused me to jump.
"It's your last report of this town, Ms. Alder...make sure to send it to me by the end of one year." I froze with a frown look on my face on one last mission, knowing full well that he was only to give me one year to send the research and history of the last and only small town that no one knows existed, Radiator Springs.
I looked at Mr. Matthews, his expression stern and unwavering. The weight of the task he had just assigned me sank in. Radiator Springs, a mysterious and seemingly forgotten town, was now my final assignment before retirement. I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and worry.
"Radiator Springs... I've heard of it," I admitted, curiosity piqued by the familiar name. Mr. Matthews turns around to face his office window and stares at the Times Square view before him. "That's the thing, Nataly. It's a town that's slipped under the radar, lost in the annals of history. But we received this letter, and something about it intrigued me. I want you to dig deep, uncover its hidden stories, and bring them to light."
I nodded, understanding the magnitude of the task ahead. "I won't let you down, Mr. Matthews. I'll do everything in my power to unearth the secrets of Radiator Springs and deliver a compelling report."
He smiled, a mix of pride and relief evident on his face. "I know you will, Nataly. That's why I chose you for this assignment. Take your time, immerse yourself in the town, and unravel its history. Just remember, this is your final project, so make it count."
As I left his office with the file in hand, my mind raced with a multitude of questions. What stories lay hidden in the forgotten streets of Radiator Springs? Who were the people who once called it home, and what led to its obscurity? The prospect of this final adventure ignited a spark within me, reigniting my passion for storytelling.
I knew that embarking on this journey would not only fulfill my duty as a journalist but also serve as a personal catharsis. It would be a chance to find closure, to let go of the regrets that haunted me since my parents' passing. Perhaps, in the process of unraveling Radiator Springs' history, I would find the closure I desperately sought.
With renewed determination, I headed back to my desk, ready to dive into the research and begin my exploration of Radiator Springs. The countdown to retirement had started, but my final chapter as a journalist was about to unfold in a town shrouded in mystery and waiting to reveal its tales. After that, I packed my stuff from my office by heading out to the elevator, and once out of the building, the first thing I did was drive home to rest and wake up the next day for my trip on the highway.
