Cylindrical Spelunking  I arrive at a cave to go spelunking with a young woman who is a bit older than I, and a man my age. The woman seems to have experience spelunking. I prepare myself, putting on my boots. I have some indecision about which pair of boots to wear, knowing my feet will get wet. I bring a backpack containing my turquoise sweater, a camera, and some food. The cave is long, deep, and perfectly cylindrical. There seems to be a light at the end of the cave. Two young men emerge from the cave. The cave has been carved by water: a stream or a river that I hear. I ask the woman what kind of rock the cave is made of. She says, "Whitman", but she is unsure. I interact with some people near the front of a store there. They give me Zima sandwiches, which are turkey, for free. I'm happy to have free food. I get in the drivers seat of a white truck. It is a stick shift. There is another truck there that is black. My dad is in the truck, but at first I know this person to be someone different. We begin to drive, going a short distance. My dad is in front of us on a golf cart. We're driving by what seems to be Railroad Company softball parks. My dad tips his golf cart, turning while going too fast. We stop. My dad has injured his shoulder in the fall. There is a brace on his shoulder. He may have aggravated a previous injury. He decides not to spelunk with us. He has had 31 hours of sleep in some period of time and decides to rest his shoulder.