With eyelids and feet as heavy as lead, it was indeed difficult to remove shoes or even untie them. Matthew sat upright as a bag of potatoes on his bed and tried with growing frustration to untie his shoelaces. Even if he was tired like Kumajiro on the brink of winter hibernation, he refused to wear his shoes to bed. He always has a little bit form, it doesn't matter how tired he is.

He thought he will hit the ceiling, because the laces snarled up again and again. Luckily, he won the war after a few attempts and kicks the shoes off with a sense of relief and satisfaction. With a delightful sigh, Matthews head hits the pillow and he lolled himself laboriously in his blanket, before finally giving into sleep, a bright smile on his worn out face.

Perceived as if his slumber didn't last a second, as he was woken up by a wet-icy sting on his face. Promptly he opened his eyes, because a numb feeling doesn't bode well. He feared the worst. Indeed was the scenery, that he saw something completely different as Matthew thought it would be. But it was as bad as Matthews thought of a stroke.
His eyes peered into an unfriendly, cloudy, grey sky, out of which enormous snowflakes flutter to the ground.
"What the heck happened to my flat?"
He looked to his left. An untouched, scenic winter forest framed the huge open space in the distance. No storyteller could have imagined a prettier winter landscape! But apparently Matthew could, for how else could he, along with his whole bed, have gotten teleported into this winter wonderland?
"Where is my room? This must be a joke… Why would I dream something like this?"
Incessantly the snowflakes, as big as the unsavoury glitter snowflakes for Christmas trees, are floating down on him. As they landed on his cheeks he knew that for a dream, they were way too cold.

A shiver went down his spine. His senses, sharpened through multiple wars, told him only one thing: get out of the falling snow; stay warm!
This time his gear was bizarre. Admittedly he wore his old clothes – a sweater, long jeans and socks – but his shoes weren't teleported here. He also missed the essential toque. Matthew knew, he must not be finicky. Every second counts. And so he did something, which would be pretty hilarious for a bystander, if he had one.
He pulled out the string of the sweater, put on the hood and tied his pillow as a cover over his head and ears. He striped the sheet off the mattress and ripped it in two pieces to wrap them around his feet. With the blanket worn as a cloak, he sat on his bed and deliberate whether the mattress will come in handy later. Sadly it was filled with metal springs and was partly wet. So he decided to leave it behind and started to tramp through the deep snow right to the woods.