An excercise in description. Vivid imaginations, feel free to flex here!
The world was shrouded in mist. The ground could not be seen, and the mist flowed gently over my shins. It was cold. Somehow I knew that there was nobody there, so I did not bother to call out. There was nothing in this world, except the mist, the ground, and an eerie white light emanating from another place. It almost looked like the mist was the thing producing the light.
Then I noticed a rock. Quite a large one, so it was strange how it escaped my view. I walked over to it, with the mist making way for me. The rock was very odd. It was completely black, but rough. One side was perfectly smooth; the side that the mist was flowing into and over, like a river flowing against a rock. I tried to touch this surface, but my hand slipped off as if it wasn't even there. I tried touching the edge. I cut my finger; it was so sharp. The smooth surface acted as a mirror, and I could see myself. I stared blankly at the man in the rock for a while before I realised this. I looked nothing like what I used to. Time had aged.
I stared at this rock for a long time. I don't know how long, except that when I came to the mist was even thicker. It was approaching my stomach, making me very cold all over. The mist almost completely shrouded the rock and, before my eyes, started to flow over it. In a short time the rock was merely a bump in the flow, then it was gone, as the mist grew ever higher.
This started to disconcert me. I started to panic slightly. The mist flowed higher, reaching my chest. I could not feel my legs. However, the mist was comforting, it was almost pleasant. My panic abated. It started to crawl up my chest, my neck, to my face. Finally and at last, my entire body was surrounded with this thick stuff, glowing from the inside, I now realised, and I sat down. If I was going to die, I may as well do it while comfortable. I lay down, in a foetal position, and silently suffocated.