Still Life

by Sarah Winman

Just before ten, however, Ulysses blew out the candles and turned off the lights. He thought they were heading down to Michele’s, but Peg took his hand and led him back upstairs to his room. Peg? She pushed him down on the bed. Through the window, a black and blue marbled sky, a now-you-see-me-now-you-don’t moon and stars and household lights and Col’s laugh rising outside Michele’s. Put these on, she said, reaching into his trouser pocket and pulling out his glasses. She unzipped him, pulled up her dress and straddled him. They didn’t move for a while. A slow pelvic rock till it became unbearable. She pressed both hands onto his mouth to stop his groans. At ten thirty they went down to the square. Peg called out to Cress and the old fella’s face lit up at the sight of her.