The slow Fall through Fog to diner Lights

"I dreamed I was standing near the edge of a high concrete overpass, trying to read a street sign that kept shifting into random numbers, when my foot slipped into open air. Instead of plummeting, I floated downward through a heavy, disorienting fog in total slow motion, watching the gray girders and power lines drift past my face at a crawl. The air was thick and completely silent, and my head felt dizzy and heavy, like I was trying to turn around underwater. When I finally reached the pavement below, there was no painful impact at all—my body just gently absorbed the hit and gave a soft, springy bounce off the asphalt like a rubber ball. I didn't shock awake or even gasp for air; I just pushed myself back up onto my feet, dusted off my coat, and started walking down the empty road toward a diner lights in the distance as if nothing had ever happened."