Late Night Home Repair

Up to my armpit in lint, I reach deeper than hell into the dryer vent. I expect I could pull anything out, a tired old wig, a dead animal, the old bones of someone else's arm. What if, my manic neurons ask me, something pulled from the other end? Would my wife hear me from her half sleep through the ceiling, floor and bed covers? Then in a minute I am done, pulled out safely in time for sleep.