History Has a Hold on Her

Devra turned her attention away from the Big Ben lego model and glanced over her notes for the evening weather report, her faculties barely involved in the process.

Did this even count as "working on television"? Her path had not led to where her she had always believed it would, and it was fair to say that she found her current career tedious at best (loathsome at worst, should she be pressed after a Chardonnay or two).

Dimly she perceived a sound, barely penetrating her consciousness - only gently feathering at the limits of audible perception.

Chimes. Distant chimes.

No, not distant - merely faint, and the melody was unmistakable. Devra heard the bells of Big Ben.

Eyes drawn - seemingly by the force of an unknown, unknowable will, Devra's focus shifted to the lego model of Big Ben.

Big Ben moved.