A bit of nonsense for Sue Vincent’s Thursday writing prompt.
They did it thousands of years before for Ozymandias, the Romans made quite a habit of it, and more recently, Lenin, Stalin and Saddam Hussein received the same treatment. Now, after the people’s revolution, it was the turn of that symbol of a dysfunctional society, the Houses of Parliament. The chains that were hoisted around the clock tower, where Big Ben chimed the last midnight chimes of its existence, sparkled with coloured lights. The crowd below raised expectant faces, listening to the countdown broadcast on loud speakers that rivalled with the booming clock chimes, watching as the chains were slowly tightened.
On the final stroke of midnight, the tanks jerked into action, the stone fissured before toppling in the direction of the Thames, and the white faces of the clock fell in a rain of cogs and gears to be swallowed up in the dark waters. Along the border, where snow was falling across a hushed landscape, Scottish freedom fighters revved the motors of their armoured vehicles and waited for the signal to advance.