No One Can See Me

I think that the driver sees me, so I step down into the street. Halfway across the crosswalk, I notice he isn’t slowing. Split seconds. I wave at him, then try to run. The car is small, hits me in the knee. I fold into the air, hang, and shatter on the pavement.
Now I find myself outside, and I can see the driver cursing his car for making that funny thudding noise again. I see many things; the pedestrians still waiting for the light chat as if nothing had happened, as if not even my crunched remains were real.