you can come through anything...
and it helps to have a friend.
Wandering the streets, the survivor looks pleadingly at the white dots in the blue-black sky-is anyone up there caring? He turns his eyes back to the ground, littered with rubble. As he walks on, he looks at the now broken places he and his friends once congregated, the remains of the restaurant his family used to eat at when he was a child, the park where he'd had his first real date. The bench where he'd kissed her was half-crushed by who knows what.
He turns his head away. The grief is too much.
Walking on, he comes to the remnants of a hospital, once the most respected place to have your life saved. It was full the night the city fell. The irony does not escape him. A piece of rubble falls-a lonely sound.
The first rays of light begin to illuminate the sky.
Another piece of debris tumbles to the ground. A small voice curses the stones on top of it. The survivor runs to help, tears away the rubble with desperate hands. A girl-woman really, but young-soon emerges from the pile of shattered hospital. Dust-covered and shaken, her hands clench and unclench a small white nurse's cap as she turns to survey the damage done.
The sun crests the horizon.
"I guess the first thing to do is to find the other survivors." Her voice is strong.
"I've already found one."
"You have, haven't you?" She smiles. "Forever in your debt, by the way. Now come on, friend. There's work to do."
There is yet hope.
(yeah, i'm long-winded.)