Here is an excerpt from my questionable freshmen effort Metallic Trees Bloom.
It takes several moments for the dust to settle. The three of you look like archeological finds of a defeated dynasty.
It’s not long before your sad, wonderfully preserved faces twist into activity once more. Dante is the first to stand up and frantically brush off that clinging layer of dust. You and Sixta clumsily follow suit, awkward follow-ups to the ex-patriot’s graceful movements. The three of you oscillate your heads, scanning your environment with welcome confusion.
Thought the plot was fairly irredeemable, but some of the word choice might have been okay, if a little pedantic in places. Let me know what you think.