When I see round clocks which have a circular scar on their faces, injured by the second hand scratching its way across time, I wonder if one day part of the glass would drop out if enough time passed, and the scratches were deep enough.

They say time heals. Today I envisioned the key to releasing oneself from the chains of pain, or guilt, or grief, being in one such round clock with a scar on its face - one day the second hand would cut a hole on its face, just like a laser, except in ever-so-slow motion, and you would be able to reach in and take the key which was in plain view all the time - you just couldn't reach it until the time was ripe. And until you're ready to knock on the glass.