“I don’t think I’d ever seen such a frump. The white wraparound uniform she wore, probably supplied by the restaurant, was about six sizes too large for her, and she appeared to be trying to fight her way out of it when she moved. Her hair was done up in what I can only describe as a wad. She wore a pair of tiny dime-store glasses which squeezed her eyes to the size of beans. Her severe little face was shiny, utterly free of so much as a little powder. Worst of all was her body, or perhaps her posture. . . .

I’ve said I was a not-so-much myself. Compared to her I was a combination of Prince Charming and Einstein. . . .”

—Jim Thompson, from Sunrise at Midnight; Fireworks: The Lost Writings of Jim Thompson, 1988.