The city was a living thing in the early morning—breathing, stretching, shaking off the night's shadows. Tony's garbage truck lumbered through the awakening streets, its engine a steady heartbeat in the hush before the day's chaos. Maribel sat beside him, her hands wrapped around a chipped mug of coffee Tony had produced from somewhere in the depths of the cab. The warmth seeped into her fingers, chasing away the last of the night's chill.
She watched Tony as he navigated the narrow alleys, his broad hands sure on the wheel. There was a rhythm to his movements, a confidence that came from years of knowing these streets better than most people knew their own homes. Maribel found herself relaxing into the seat, letting the city's unfamiliar corners unfold before her.
"Ever see the sunrise from the top of the old viaduct?" Tony asked, glancing at her with a sideways grin.
She shook her head, curiosity piqued. "Didn't even know you could get up there."
Tony's grin widened. "Most people don't. But this truck's got its secrets." He turned down a side street, the truck's tires crunching over broken glass and discarded dreams. They wound their way through the maze of back alleys until the viaduct loomed ahead, its arches silhouetted against the pale sky.
Tony parked beneath the structure and hopped out, motioning for Maribel to follow. She hesitated only a moment before climbing down, her shoes crunching on gravel. Together, they climbed a rusted ladder bolted to the side of the viaduct, emerging onto a narrow walkway high above the city.
The view took Maribel's breath away. The city sprawled beneath them, rooftops glowing gold in the dawn. For a moment, the world felt impossibly vast—and yet, standing beside Tony, she felt anchored, safe.
He leaned on the railing, looking out over the city. "You know, people throw away more than just trash. They toss out memories, dreams, even pieces of themselves. Sometimes I think this job's about more than just cleaning up after them. It's about finding what's worth saving."
Maribel looked at him, seeing past the rough exterior to the man beneath. "And what about you, Tony? What have you saved?"
He was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. "A few things. A lucky coin. A photograph of my old dog. And now, maybe, a morning like this."
They stood in companionable silence, the city waking up around them. Maribel felt something shift inside her—a sense of possibility, of new beginnings. She turned to Tony, her voice soft. "Thank you. For showing me this."
He smiled, a rare gentleness in his eyes. "Anytime, Maribel. The city's full of secrets. You just have to know where to look."
As the sun climbed higher, they made their way back to the truck, the spell of the morning lingering between them. Maribel knew she'd never look at the city—or Tony—the same way again.