(Here, I found what I was thinking of.)
Runner winced slightly as he awoke, feeling like his brain was moving through Jell-O on a Wal-Mart electric scooter. His eyelids were defiant of their owner that moment, refusing to lift despite the aggravated orders his brain was sending at a frantic speed. No! they seemed to say, We'll open on our own time, how about that? Runner, while his brain and eyes continued to argue, rolled over on his side and suddenly realized how cold his bed had gotten. And it didn't contort to his elbow when he propped himself up. Finally, his brain prevailed and he opened his eyes, blinking away the tears and studying his room. Or not. It was a concrete bunker. Walls, floor, ceiling, all concrete. The only break between was the naked bulb the protruded from the ceiling like a pimple. In an act of revenge on the brain, his eyes wandered and looked directly at the light, sending a sharp pain running down his neck.
"Ow!" he spat out, turning away and rolling back on to his stomach.