The rising sun spilled across Tosi's small room, painting golden streaks on the walls. The old tenement stood on the edge of the bustling city, but in the girl's room time passed lazily, almost sleepily. Under a pile of cushions lay a glass clock, an heirloom from her great-grandmother, who claimed that true magic hides in the simplest of objects. This morning, something was different. The clock under the pillow was ticking faster than usual, and the hands tentatively began to move in the opposite direction. Tosia stared at the dial mesmerised - she couldn't look away. Her cat, Almond, ran across the window sill, stopping by the curtain - he had obviously sensed something unusual too. In the kitchen, her mum was preparing breakfast, favourite tunes came from the radio. Nothing, however, sounded the same as it did every morning. The notes were strangely inverted, as if the world was listening backwards. Tosia, holding the clock in her hand, felt the warmth beating from its glass surface. She felt she should do something - just what? Maybe turn the hands, or.... say a magic word she didn't yet know? At that moment, she heard a quiet tapping from the inside of the clock, as if someone was trying to get out of it. Almond ruffled his fur and meowed warningly. Tosia froze, feeling the reality of the room begin to blur with each tick....