Where Was The Sparkle? - short story by Adam Carlton

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She looks into the mirror. She sees a dumpy girl, mid-20s short hair, round face, not completely unattractive but far from glamorous. She has not had her fair share of boyfriends. 

Somehow the handsome young men who run things in the organisation, their gazes pass over her and fix instead on those long-haired, willowy girls with their fluent conversations and their short skirts and their smiles. She is plain speaking and doesn't know how to do any of that. 

It's remarkable that he paid any attention to her at all. He is after all a rising star. He's in his mid-20s too: slim, not exactly handsome but good looking, long hair, confident, intelligent, very well versed in the ideology of the organisation. He's a competent organiser, obviously going places, and now his attention has fixed upon her. 

He's engaged during their recent conversations, fixing her with his eyes and with his undivided attention. This is not a normal experience for her. 

And tonight they're going out and he's going to suggest that she go away on holiday with him. 

How should she prepare? She doesn't want to make compromises which aren't authentic. She's not going to dress up; she's not going to glam up or make up or do any of the other things that would be out of character.

She knows who she is.

---

After their evening out, she finds herself in his flat. It's a large room: a bedsit in suburbia. They each have a coffee which is instant and comes out of a large tin on a small table near the bay window. They talk a little and then they take off their clothes and she climbs into his bed.

And now where is the magic she had viewed with trepidation, longed for? - What is she feeling? 

She's confused; he's slightly uneasy. This was not the plan: they're not easy with each other; they're not familiar. It seems like she's a stranger in this bed, this here-and-now; her inner self unmoved as they move together through the rhythmic throes of intimacy.

He makes a remark: that her skin feels greasy. Well, yes, she does have greasy skin. And no, she did not make a special attempt to shower this evening. She had a shower this morning. Okay she's greasy. That's how she comes.

He seems disappointed. They fall asleep. Next day they part: there will be no holiday. They probably will never speak again. Her life will continue and she will continue to be alone.

She does not understand what happened here? Why was no connection made?

Why was there no sparkle?