Davey woke up bathed in sweat. His mattress was soaked too, but he suspected that wasn't just sweat.
He swung his legs out of the bed and thought about the horrific dream he'd just had.
Did he die?
He can't have done because if you dream you die you die for real, don't you? What nonsense.
He was shaking and he went to get a glass of water.
After a while he grabbed a blanket and climbed on to the sofa, a less-sodden sleeping possibility.
He drifted off to sleep and straight back into the dream from which he'd recently escaped.
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