From the opposite end of the underpass, a beachball rolled down the street. It was about 2 feet in diameter, alternating blue and white panels.
It slowly coasted down the incline until coming to a rest at the bottom, just to my left, nestled against the curb on top of the stormdrain grate. Traffic was on Main Avenue, so the lanes were empty on the northbound side of the 25th street.
A little breeze came up, stirring the beachball from it's place. Slowly, the ball worked it's way back up the ramp, pressed onward by the wind. The breeze slowly pushed the ball into the nearer of the two lanes.
A car turned right and adjusted it's path to avoid the beachball. The air movement of the car pushed the ball back towards the curb.
Another car passed, but the drag behind it sucked the beachball back into the traffic lanes.
The light at the top of the underpass turned green, and both lanes filled with cars.
The first vehicle in the innermost lane was a 1/2-ton blue pickup truck pulling a trailer.
The beachball went under the truck's passenger-side tire. The POP resounded, echoing harshly against the cement underpass walls. Even though I saw it happen, the retort of beachball death still startled me.