A Shadow in the Trench

I pushed forward along the carpet, dragging my heavy flank into the cool cavern under the low coffee table. A thick television remote control rested near the table leg, dark and still. I waited, studying its squared contours. Slowly, I nudged the rubber tip with my snout. It gave way with a firm, muted scrape against the floor. A solid piece of driftwood in this dry trench. I settled my chin beside it, letting the room drift above me.