Rings.

I have a piece of material that wraps around my wrist to give me the numbers associated with passing presentness. I bought it for ten soles. Alone for three days it gave me the present, then it needed a new battery. One hour ahead of presentness to three hours behind to suspension of time to 30 minutes ahead. Bindy said it was my particular electro magnetic field and that I needed one made by the Swiss to keep accurate presentness. I grew accustomed to the impartialness of this material never keeping human assigned time, until one day I hopped in shower number 12 and it died. 5:22 in the morning or maybe night I will never know. I think it was morning because when I woke up Peru changed. There is a bridge 30 feet high suspended by sticks. Alyssa you are my stick. Nick you are my stick. Susan and John you are my logs. Marta and Jason you are my sticks. Sarah you are my stick. Jennifer you are my stick. Amy and Jon you are sticks. Marty you are my stick. Lois, Don and Vivian you are my planks. To have such a sleeping bag made of wood I find myself titled lucky number 7. Peru is the river and through the sticks I see Peruvian loveliness still. You all are titled the stone vein canals of ollantaytambo.