The Children (a ¾ drabble)

Underneath the rubble, the children are climbing. Up from beneath the rocks they are climbing. Through crumbled school buildings, past the crushed remains of desks upon which they wrote their names. Out of their homes and playgrounds under fallen cities and mountains they climb, into twilight of murk and waste. Still higher. Above the clouds of dust taller than buildings. Higher than the cries of their mothers and fathers can reach. Higher to the sun.