Swagger – Flash Fiction

Michael walked into the restaurant with a swagger. He talked loudly on his mobile phone. Loud enough for everyone around him to stop. His suit was crisp and immaculate like he had taken it off the peg. In fact, that was exactly what had happened. The bag dumped around the back of the restaurant.

As he sat at his table Michael smiled at the waitress. He thought it was his best winning look, she thought he looked cocky. She raised her eyes at him and looked at the phone in his hand. He chuckled to himself, this wasn’t going to stop him. He carried on discussing some takeover business deal that he was involved in at the top of his voice. Which was strange as the phone had no SIM card in it.

When the call ended he said ciao and hung up the phone with a thud. He then sat there looking around the dining room smiling at anyone who met his eye.

The waitress came back over to take his order. Placing his drink down a little too hard. He ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, finished off with a bottle of champagne. He would work out how to pay for it later.

Everything he did was at a volume that the rest of the dining room could hear. Whilst he waited for his food he again spent his time looking around smiling at everyone. Either that or making a big show of answering emails on his disconnected phone. He was scanning the faces for someone familiar. Someone who didn’t quite fit in.

When his food finally arrived he placed his napkin on his lap. Again Michael did this with such a flourish he looked like a matador trying to encourage a lazy bull to attack. He carried on ensuring everyone saw him. The more people that watched him the better. They couldn’t attack if they had a 100 eyes on their mark.

Ten minutes later he clenched his chest and his head hit the table. The champagne glass tipped and slowly dripped champagne onto the floor. The waitress smiled no one looked at the waitress, everyone thought they would see it coming.


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