Every morning before sunrise, Joon swept the main street, and nobody saw him. He knew the city the way you know your own house in the dark, by its sounds: the first oven in the baker's, the newspaper van backing up to the kiosk, the quick heels of the nurse who walked to the hospital for the early shift. He had his own small rituals. He swept in a wide curve around the old dog who slept outside the bank, and whenever he found a lost wallet, he carried it to the police kiosk and left it on the counter without a word.
One morning, he found a paper cup of hot coffee on his bench. There was a note under it: "For the person who keeps our city clean, from room 4B." He read it twice. Then he drank the coffee slowly, and swept the rest of the street more slowly than usual, and he found that he was smiling. The next day there was another cup, and this time there was also a child's drawing: a man with a very large broom, under a very yellow sun.