Framed Connection

Chapter 5: Two worlds and a line

Roxanna is relieved to have the day finally being over. Practically dragging her feet as she approaches her apartment door. Unlocking the door she hears her stomach growl. "You couldn't wait till we made it past the door. Could you?" Feeling a slight pinch from her cat, of a stomach. Glad that her neighbors weren't nearby to have heard it.

Taking a step into the door, taking off her shoes, messenger bag dangling from its straps. Roxanna clicks the switch, flickering on the lights, straightening up she removes the bag from across her. Leaning it by the wall near the entrance, slugging her way over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge she thought about making tacos from the leftover minced meat.

Taking it out the fridge to thaw a little, before making her way to the bathroom to freshen up. Moving from bathroom –passing the wall of plants— to bedroom, after a few minutes comes out in cozy powder blue sweats, with a print of a sheep sleeping on a crescent moon.

Walks into the kitchen warming up the stove ready to start on preparing her meal. Looking at the seasoned container of minced meat seeing that there wasn't much left. Not thinking much of it as she was planning on using it anyways, was somewhat hoping that it would be for a special day. "Looks like that day is going to have to be today then." Saying this she checks on the pan to see if the oil was hot enough.

Sliding the beef out of the container, the crackling of the oil as it lands. The earthy smell of oregano, coriander powder and garlic filling the air. Using her spatula to carefully break up and stir the beef, slowly beginning to show gray. Roxanna while waiting for it to sear a little more goes to start prepping her fixings.

Chopping carrots, onions, tomatoes and chives finely dicing them and placing them in separate bowls. Monitoring the beef making sure it doesn't burn, adding taco seasoning for a little more flavor. Once it's near finished she sets up the shells on the island counter. Bringing the plate of shells over to the stove she scoops the beef into them. Bring them back to the Island topping it up with the fixings, with an addition of shredded lettuce, cheese and sour cream.

Satisfied with how it turned out goes over to the living area setting it down on the table. Deciding to continue watching the show from the night prior while she dines. Too eager to know if the character's plan will work, hoping that it does.

Roxanna stares up at her bathroom mirror brushing her teeth, feeling like the two episodes she just watched emotionally drained her. "I hope you get what's coming to you." Brushing her teeth more furiously never thought anyone could peeve her more than Valdes does. Spitting out the minty froth into the sink, turning the cup of water at her head gargling, slamming it down.

Speaking of Valdes when it was time to leave the office Valdes called her into the meeting room. Frustrated not sure what he could possibly want from her at that moment only wanting to get as far away from him as possible. "Why did you need to see me Sir?" Roxanna was unenthusiastic not knowing why he was delaying her from leaving. "For your next month's issue I'm going to need you to look into the artist M.W."

"M.W?" Roxanna is now intrigued in all actually she was already contemplating writing about them. A little unsure if Valdes would approve if she proposed the idea, to have it fall right in her lap.

"I'm not going to parrot it again. What I need is for you to confirm that you're willing to take on the task."

"Of course Sir, don't worry I will make it happen." Ecstatic that she doesn't have to go through the rigorous process of getting it approved by him.

"Good to hear, I expected your first draft in a week's time." Valdes says walking out the door.

Roxanna didn't care how soon of a deadline he gave her for that draft, only that she was getting to write something she's interested in for once. Having had all of her issue decisions mitigated by Valdes, finding her incompetent to come up with good ideas of her own.