Perhaps the only reason I remember her is the way she sparkled. Her skin shimmered in the darkness, a light amongst the shadow. The spark of pure hedonistic life in her eyes was unmistakable and her smile was clear as the morning dawn. I remember her lack of clothing, and the sweat clinging to the contours of her skin. When I asked her name it wasn’t surprised when she whispered to me- “Sparkle, darling- Sparkle.” Her voice was harmonic, blending beautifully with the pounding music that reverberated on the floor and walls. My lips trembled as I watched her- her body moving steadily to a beat I failed to hear within the pounding sound. She danced and laughed and she- sparkled. She was, is, Sparkle.