Nina was eleven years old and loved strange inventions. On a rainy Saturday she cleaned out her grandfather Leon's entire basement. There were so many boxes that they formed streets of dust. On a shelf she found a metal tin with a drawing of a clock. The tin was closed with an old, very springy latch. Nina gently levered it open with a penknife and looked inside. Inside lay a brass compass that had three hands. On the dial someone had once engraved the words: Time Jumper. Grandpa said that some objects have their own memory. Nina gently touched the dial and held her breath for a moment. The compass suddenly trembled and started ticking loudly backwards. The hands did not point to midnight, only to yesterday and tomorrow. The air smelled of soot and the cellar suddenly seemed to darken. A shadow appeared over the table, although the lamp shone brightly. A map slid along the wall, as if changing rivers. The latch of the can closed by itself, and the clock beeped. - Hello? Grandfather? Can you hear it? Grandpa Leon looked through the door, but stopped at the threshold. - 'Don't touch it for too long, please,' he warned, blanching. On the rim she noticed a row of dates, written very finely. The current day flashed, the next glowed dully, like footprints. Nina moved the pointer to the year her grandfather had been silent about. A cold gust fell from the ceiling and the light caught the dust. - 'I've only seen it once,' Leon whispered, stepping back. - When the gates open, come back if you can. The floor trembled, and a crack developed in the air. Behind her flashed a street with a tram, the number 1913 on the roof. The bell sounded different, and people wore strange hats. Nina tightened her fingers on the compass and took a step. At that moment, something from that side spotted her.