You stir from a good night's sleep, lazily open one eye halfway, and notice it's still pitch-black and silent in your room. Strange. You almost never wake up before your alarm goes off, and sometimes not even then.
No matter, you tell yourself. You've got plenty of time to get more shut-eye in before you have to wake up. The only problem is going to be managing to drift off again. Your futon has never been particularly comfortable, and it's typical for you to toss and turn a bit before falling asleep, but right now it feels unbearably hard and awkward.
You notice you've kicked your blanket off in your sleep, and since it's fairly obvious that you'd be a bit more comfortable with it, you reach out in a fumbling attempt to find it.
A few inches above you, your fingertips graze solid wood.