Peter always thought his small town was the dullest place in the world. Lipowa Street was quiet, the houses grey and the people predictable. Only one man stood out from the crowd: Mr Julian, an old watchmaker whose shop was located in a dusty-smelling tenement opposite the school. Every morning, on his way to lessons, Piotrek could see through the steamed-up windows Mr Julian leaning over his watches. His hands were thin and slightly trembling, but his fingers moved as deftly as if guided by some mysterious melody. Alarm clocks, old wall clocks piled up on the shelves of the workshop, and a huge, intricately carved hourglass was set up in the corner, always pouring sand backwards. One afternoon, on his way home, Peter noticed through the ajar door a golden glow spilling across the workshop floor. Something touched him. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then cautiously stepped inside. The clocks around him began to tick quietly, as if welcoming a new visitor. Mr Julian didn't seem to notice this, as he worked in concentration at the disassembled clock, from which a gentle smoke was rising. - 'Excuse me, I have a ... a problem with my watch," sobbed Peter, although his own was working perfectly. The watchmaker turned slowly, and his eyes, glittering like clock faces, looked at the boy. - Time is a strange thing. We keep chasing it, and it still does what it wants with us, doesn't it? - Mr Julian said quietly, and then smiled slightly. - 'Come on, let me show you something. Before Piotrek had time to protest, the watchmaker slammed the door and the heavy curtains fell on the windows. The light inside went out for a moment, only to flare up immediately afterwards with thousands of tiny sparks. The clocks began to speed up, the hands skipped minutes and hours, and a hum filled the air. - Have you ever been in the middle of tikting moments? - Mr Julian asked in a whisper and touched the old hourglass with his hand. Peter felt a strange tingling sensation. Suddenly the walls of the workshop began to blur as if in a kaleidoscope. The boy saw swirling images from his life: yesterday's morning lessons, Christmas with his family, his friends' laughter. Everything rushed past at dizzying speed, as if someone was rewinding the tape back and forth. Time danced in the air, playing an unfamiliar game with Peter. - 'Don't be afraid,' whispered Mr Julian. - Time passes differently here. Maybe you can learn to control it? Before Piotrek had time to ask the question, everything around him suddenly froze. All sounds fell silent and the space around was filled with golden light. The boy stood in the middle of the workshop, with all the clocks pointing their hands towards him. What would happen if he touched the hourglass?