The railway line through Marrawah ended in 1923.
By 1926, the last train had rusted into the red
earth. The town’s only landmark was the Red Bull
Inn, run by Tom Gorman, a man who knew every
patron’s name and every secret they carried.
In 1928, a storm unearthed a buried clockwork
device beneath the inn’s cellar. It ticked with
a sound like a heartbeat, and when Tom touched
it, he saw a vision: a man in a duster, riding a
horse through the same dust that now choked the
streets of Marrawah. The vision lasted three
seconds.
Tom’s hands began to age rapidly. His beard
turned white overnight. He found old newspapers
in his drawer—pages from 1915, 1908, 1901. The
town’s records showed no one named Jack Riley,
but the locals whispered of a bushranger who
vanished in 1903, leaving only a silver watch
behind.
The clockwork device hummed louder each night.
Tom discovered it could rewind time in small
bursts—three minutes, five, ten. But each use
aged him further. A rule emerged: for every
second regained, a year was lost.
In 1931, a stranger arrived in Marrawah. He wore
a duster, rode a horse, and carried a silver
watch. The townsfolk feared him, but Tom
recognized him. It was Jack Riley, returned from
the dead.
Riley claimed the device had been left by a
scientist who believed time could be harnessed.
He wanted it back. Tom refused. The device was
his only chance to fix what had been broken—his
father’s death, his own wasted years.
On the night of the Anzac Day parade, Tom used
the device to return to 1903. He saved his
father, but the cost was steep: his body
crumbled into dust as the years rushed back.
Riley took the device. The town never saw him
again. The Red Bull Inn closed. Marrawah became
a ghost town, its streets littered with old
newspapers and rusted tracks.
The clockwork device remained buried, waiting
for the next hand to touch it.
