Daniel stood in the line of wall washers. He stood in position four and had perfected his timing over the forty years at his post.

Wall washer. Position four. Wipe and swipe. 

His technique stood out as a practiced swing of his right hand brought the sponge across the white surface of the towering building. His left hand moved the rubber wedge to dry the wall. In his peripheral vision, he saw a Supervisor walking with a new hire. 

Daniel's lips twitched at the thought of another new hire on the wall washer line. He would have to slow down his technique by a half second on each hand to accommodate the new hire. He glanced down the street to observe the Supervisor with the new hire.

White buildings lined the street, towering above the line of day workers that kept the city clean and pleasant. The Supervisor and the new hire started back up the street.

Daniel returned his attention to the wall. He wiped the wall, then swiped the water and grime away. Each wipe and swipe brought a swell of pride in his heart. For forty years, he worked to perfect his technique and washed the city's walls. His dedication showed in each deliberate movement he made.

Wall washer. Position four. Wipe and swipe.

The Supervisor tapped on Daniel's shoulder. Daniel turned and smiled to the Supervisor, but his smile disappeared when he spotted the number four on the new hire's chest.

"Sir," Daniel said, "there's been a mistake. The new hire is wearing my number." Daniel thumbed his chest to indicate the number there.

The Supervisor reached out and peeled the number off of Daniel's plain white workshirt. 

Daniel's heart choked him; it turned into a lump in his throat. He looked down at his chest. Instead of black, his number was now pink.

"Sir?"  Daniel's confusion resounded in his voice.

The Supervisor said nothing. He pushed the new hire in next to Daniel and pulled Daniel out of the line of wall washers.

Daniel dropped his sponge and rubber wedge and wallked away from the Supervisor without any further instruction. He stepped to the curb and pursed his lips as he glanced up at the sky. Against the backdrop of the white buildings reaching to touch the heavens, the sky seemed white rather than blue. He glanced back to the line of wall washers and then fingered at the pink number four on  his chest.

Wall washer. Position four. Wipe and swipe.

He searched the street for the Human Resource department. He knew it was almost time. The Supervisor had pink slipped him nearly two minutes ago. 

A Human Resource van approached with a soft electric hum. The van pulled to the curb and stopped in front of Daniel. A worker, dressed in white, opened the van's sliding door.

Daniel stepped closer to the van. "Daniel. Wall washer. Position four."

The worker leaned back in the van and Daniel climbed in.

The Human Resource van drove away into the city, to do the dirty work required to keep the city perfect.