Mr Shim was a fuzzy little man; his pale fluffy hair stood out round his head like a dandelion clock and his navy blue jumper and moleskin trousers were covered in fluff and woolly pills that blurred his outline. He looked as though he was in the process of disappearing. He moved round the library on silent suede loafers and rarely raised his voice above a whisper when dealing with the public. His colleagues had never been to his house even though he only lived across the road; they often speculated about his small wardrobe but never found out whether he wore the same clothes every day or had a cupboard full of identical jumpers and trousers. He became a little more visible in winter when he added an equally silent waxed jacket and brogues to his ensemble. Mr Shim had resisted any suggestion of promotion by saying he was content to be a library assistant and besides he already had enough to deal with at the weekends. No one knew what that meant until the day he turned up outside his house in his underpants. His colleagues watched from the library windows as two large policemen escorted him to his front door. Mr Shim returned to work the next day but no one mentioned the episode and it wasn’t until the local newspaper appeared on the library counter three days later that the story emerged. Everyone crowded round to see the photographs on the front page. The paper reported that Mr Shim, the well known Elvis impersonator, had won the local heat of a major competition in Newcastle on Sunday night after two days of hotly contested sing offs. Sadly his success had been marred when his costumes and clothing were stolen whilst he was in the changing room showers. The report went on to say that Mr Shim had declined to comment but it was thought that the family of his main rival was behind the prank. He was fortunate to get a lift home with two friends who had been to the after-show party dressed as policemen.
© Diane Schofield