Once upon a time there was a tall clock tower. The tallest clock tower of all in existence. With a face so bright and intricately detailed, and arms that stretched out to the clouds. The birds flew past in awe while the people below gazed up at the beauty of the tallest clock tower they had ever seen. 
The face of the clock was proud, for it was the most accurate clock in the world. The face of the clock might have been precise but it was not wise. For it knew not of the inner workings of the cogs that kept its elaborate arms spinning.

Inside the clock tower was a revolving forest. Deep down among the mesh of cogs, worked the tiniest cog of all in existence. The tiny cog turned consistently all day and all night, always with a smile. Unbeknownst to the cogs, after eons of twirling and whirling, they were beginning to wear away. Until one day, the tiniest cog got so small that it fell out of place. The tiny cog's fall made a faint ting. And all the other cogs stopped. For without even the tiniest cog, the rotating machine could not function. 

Meanwhile, on the outside of the tower, the face's extensive arms slowed down to a halt and a creek. The face, riddled with disgust, began to panic. Looking down at the people below, it knew that they would soon notice his inaccuracy, and a clock that is inaccurate is no clock at all! The face of the clock was furious and turned inside the tower in a flat spin. Glaring down at the cogs, the face bellowed: "The hour is approaching! And by Father time, I am hoping... That you cogs are certainly joking. It is my temper you are provoking!" All of the cogs stared back at the face and then down to the tiniest cog, who was still lying flat on the cobbled floor of the tower, unable to move or get back into his rightful position in the forest. "YOU!" spat the face, "Why are you out of place?! Do you not know who I am? I am The Face! How dare you betray me?! Now, get back in your space!" The cogs gawked up at the face, and again peered down at the cog. They had lost their ability to speak for they had only listened to instructions for all the years they had dedicated to the clock tower. Suddenly a soft croak echoed up the tower. "I know who you are," squeaked the tiniest cog, "You are the face of our beloved clock tower, the people below watch you like a star, when you chime and perform every day on the hour. I know exactly who it is that you are." 

Shocked, the face retorted: "How dare you speak to ME like that?! Why, I ought to get you replaced and stat!" 

"You cannot replace me," smiled the tiniest cog. "I am the tiniest cog ever made, ask the other cogs, they'll agree." 

The other cogs glanced away in shame. They knew that the tiniest cog was correct but they were afraid of the face and wanted to continue spinning to keep it happy. 
"Without me, the whole tower cannot work, you see. I might be the tiniest cog of them all but I am a cog no less than this wall is a wall." The tiniest cog had an idea. "Why, look at this wall! Do you not see that without the bricks it would cease to be? We are the bricks in your wall of power but without us you are but a regular tower." 
"ENOUGH!" cried the face "I have heard it all, a cog is a cog and a wall is a wall! So what? Who cares? Not me! You'll get back in your space before I count to three... One..." 
"Mighty face, allow me to explain, I have worked and worn myself down for your gain." 
"Two..."
"I no longer fit in your factory of cogs. Why, I am as useful to this forest as soggy, old logs."
"Thr-"
"Look!"
Before the face could finish its count up to three, another cog from the forest interrupted, pointing to the wall. The face was paralysed, for it did not expect to see what happened next. All the bricks had suddenly awakened from their eons of slumber in that awful tower. They had heard it all, the part about the cogs and the part about the wall. 
In unison, the bricks began to sing:
"For years you have taken credit for chiming on the hour, but we are the bricks that hold up your precious tower. We are the ones with the ultimate power."
Stunned, the face of the clock tower did not say a word. Even the bells swung and clanged together in agreement with the bricks.
The bricks began to separate from each other. As the clock tower collapsed, time ceased to exist. Suspended in a moment, the cogs were at peace, the bricks were elated and the face was confounded. Everything the face thought it was, was not solely its effort and this became apparent too late. Time resumed. The tower's pieces plummeted to the ground. There came a thunderous crash and a cloud of dust over all existence and then there was nothing.

Eventually, the people below collected the bricks and made from them new houses and schools for children to learn and play in. The cogs were recycled into all sorts of magical things, like pots and pans, bridges and pianos, even waffle makers for people to use and enjoy. Except for the tiniest cog, who was elated to be placed in a time-telling museum, credited for the eons of turning he endured for the tower and admired for his size and the importance of his power. As for the face, it was beyond repair, its mangled arms and pitiful facade lay among the dust, forgotten. Never to take credit for the tower's grand design or accuracy ever again.

The end.