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The dishes were done. She had vacuumed yesterday. Bored, she rearranged the dishes in the kitchen cupboards, rearranged the furniture in the living room, and then put it all back the way it had been before.
    Standing in the middle of the room, she glanced around, thinking that, since she lived alone and was naturally tidy, the place would never really get dirty.
    When she ran out of make-work things to do, she sat on the sofa and filed her nails and tried to decide what she should do, now that she was out of college. She didn’t need money, but she did need something to keep her busy during the day. A job, she thought. That was the answer. Of course, there wasn’t much call for an expert in comparative folklore these days. Still, she was reasonably intelligent—there must be something she could do.
    With that thought in mind, she decided to walk down to the casino. She could buy a newspaper there and check out the want ads while she ate lunch at the restaurant.
    And if she was lucky, she might run into Zack.
    It took only minutes to make her way down the hill to the casino restaurant. After a short wait, she was seated at a small table near the back window. She ordered a turkey club sandwich and a strawberry lemonade, then opened the paper she had picked up in the lobby and perused the help-wanted section. She frowned as she looked at the available jobs. Waitress. Maid at one of the hotels. Babysitter. Clerk at the Pink Poodle Boutique. Dog walker. Checker at one of the local markets.
    She folded the paper with a huff of exasperation. There was nothing wrong with any of those positions; they were all perfectly respectable. It was just that she had been hoping, foolishly perhaps, that she would find something where she could use her degree. Zack would probably laugh at that. She recalled his response all too clearly when she had told him she had majored in comparative folklore, the amusement in his tone when he had drawled, How’s that workin’ out for ya?
    Maybe she could write a book on ancient folklore. In 1890, Sir James George Fraser had done a colossal study of comparative folklore. Originally published in two volumes and later in multiple volumes, an abridged version had been published in 1922. Considered a classic, The Golden Bough had greatly influenced psychology and literature, presenting, in detail, the parallels between the rites, beliefs, and superstitions of early cultures and those of Christianity.
    She doubted she could pen such an important tome, but maybe she could write something a little less intense, perhaps something better suited to modern times. It was something to think about.
    After finishing her lunch, Kaitlyn wandered out into the casino. It wasn’t nearly as crowded or as noisy at this time of day as it had been the other night. Most of the patrons were elderly. A few people stood in front of the Wheel of Fortune, others were trying their luck at the dice table, or playing roulette. The majority seemed to be playing the slot machines.
    After a moment’s indecision, she took a seat at one of the quarter machines. It was an old one, with a coin slot and a handle to pull. After a few minutes of play, she found that she liked the old machine better than the new ones. It was more fun to actually put the money into the machine and pull the handle, to hear the clink of quarters falling into the tray when she won. It made it seem more like playing than merely watching.
    She kept glancing over her shoulder, hoping to see Zack striding toward her, even though she knew it would be better for both of them if their relationship ended now, before it went any further.
    After an hour, she was ahead by about twenty dollars. Gathering her winnings into a handy plastic bucket, she carried it to the cashier and exchanged the coins for greenbacks.
    “Do come again,” the cashier said, smiling as she completed the transaction.
    “Thanks, I will,” Kaitlyn said, stuffing the bills into her wallet. “Um, do