A Helping Hand

While I was watching the television I accidentally dropped the remote down a crease in the sofa. Reaching between the cushions, I blindly allowed my hand to crawl around and feel for it. My arm moved around down there, acquiring dust and cobweb retrieved from the uncleaned floor. It wasn't the dust brushing against my hand that caught me off guard, nor was it the strange chills that caused the hairs on my arm to stand. It was the moist, mushy fingers wrapping themselves around my wrist from below the couch and pulling me downward.