Fighting out of the tangles of his sheets, he rose like a zombie, and tripped, catching his elbow on his bedside table. As he flung his arm out, cursing, to break his fall, the alarm clock, still ringing, plummeted off the table and proceeded to try to flee across the floor, evading his flailing arms. Eventually, he managed to leave the floor, cradling his wounds, and struggle into his shirt, fumbling the buttons.