It was mid-afternoon when he woke up, though little sunlight spilled in through the windows: the inside panes were covered with cardboard. He stayed in bed for a few more hours, thinking, imagining, pretending. It was his primary source of entertainment, these days.
It was early afternoon, he got up and went to the front window. There was a flap he had cut into one of the cardboard sheets, and he opened it long enough to see that the streets were still full of zombies.
He decided to heat a can of something, eat it, and go back to bed.