"It's Saturday night, we'll just stay up until tomorrow." Abe hitched up the khaki shorts that hung on his skinny 6'2'' frame.

The $4.99 all you can eat steak dinner was phenomenal. At least the baked potato swimming in margarine was. Sherry added extra salt and pepper to the enormous brown vegetable on her plate. The ends of her thin tangly hair hit the yellow pool of oil on the plate as she stuffed the last of the potato in her mouth. She desperately needed a shower after camping for so many nights in the desert. Her white t-shirt wasn't in much better condition.

Elated with the thrill of the evening that lay before them, they ambled through gaming room after gaming room in search of the free drinks they had heard so much about. The night was ripe with promise. Abe tried his hand at blackjack and won, and won again, and kept winning until Sherry walked up behind him and peeked over his shoulder sipping a gin and tonic out of a plastic cup. Then he lost it all.

"Damn it."

Sherry was too nervous to gamble, but content to people watch. There was a lot to see from her red plastic bar stool that wobbled ever so slightly after the fourth cheap drink. Or was it the fifth. Or was it her? Abe was winning now in craps. It was well past midnight, but he was wide awake. He shook with adrenaline. Sherry tapped him on the shoulder again and he lost the hand.

"Damn it. I lose every time you come over here. Go away."

Sherry strode back to her stool and sat back down. Her back ached. She looked around. The scene had definitely slowed down. Nobody looked very fresh anymore. Hearing a loud motor hum, she turned. A janitor vacuumed the worn carpet in front of her feet. His face was blank. 'I guess in a place that is open 24 hours, you have to vacuum sometime,' she thought chewing the ice in her empty cup. It was 3 am.

They stumbled out of the back of Harrah's casino at 5:07am. The horizon glowed pink. Their eyes burned from hours under fluorescent lighting. They walked slowly down a driveway not wanting to go back into another dark casino, not having anywhere else to go. They argued again about how they should write a book like Jack Kerouac. Abe wasn't sure. Their legs ached. A long black shiny limo rolled by. Sherry stuck out her thumb. It continued past them twenty yards and stopped. For them. Sherry and Abe looked at each other dumbfounded.

"If we go, promise me we'll write the book," demanded Sherry. Abe reached out. They shook hands and hurried over to get in.