PROJECT PEN [SEASON II]

JUDGES REVIEWS (BATCH TWO)

Welcome to the second activity of

Yes! The moment we have all been waiting for (takes a dramatic pause)

Welcome to the very first stage of Project Pen Season II contest, The Blinds/Veiling.
(Cues in applause and a standing ovation)

Yes, I know we are all excited, nervous even, but don't lose guard because what is ahead is huge.

This is the second batch of the next five contestants' entries with the Judges' review.

Before we go ahead, here's the list of contestants we will be seeing in Batch two:

Nutcracker 008

Thehumblepen 009

Nikki 010

Efin 011

The.mini.asthete 013

Let's begin.. ☀

STAGE TWO

JUDGES REVIEWS

008 Nutcracker

Prompt: "Everyday the same thing keeps happening"

Story Entry:

My life became a distorted collage of pain and sympathy. Like a rip-off Adele mixtape. I was never one to fawn over romance novels or have long phone calls with a soon-to-be stranger.

I had thought that my heart was a black canvas coated in darkness that anyone who dared to come close would be permanently stained by. But I was a fool to think that I was too strong to fall. I had put on my big red nose and white face paint thinking I pulled my heartstrings.

But in reality he made me a jester in my own court. The day after my parents' funeral was when his poems began. At first they seemed to be a prank, the way his words unraveled me to the last detail and had an unwanted smile forming on the corners of my frown.

I tried my best to ignore him but a week had passed and each day like a wind up toy I would receive a knock on my door and a note that rested on my doorstep. But on the fourth day something was different.

With the note came a rose, begrudgingly I pulled open the note to read over its contents.

I have heard of love that rests against a window seal
Hesitant and cold yet curious of what lay beyond its walls.
I have heard of love that rests against the tombstones.
Clutching onto the emotions that other hearts once lived.

I had read the poem at least ten times and my heart beat fast like a distorted orchestra. I had grown curious and took note of the address that was scribbled at the bottom.

I knew better than to meet with strangers but this one whose words seemed to find a home in my thoughts seemed to have me throwing all rationality to the wind.

His directions had me sitting on a wooden bench in the national art gallery as I stared at the soul of a rose painting. It was a depiction of a woman in love searching for her lover over a rose shrouded fence. On the wall beside her were post-it notes left by others.

It piqued my curiosity and I chose to leave my opinion on the painting. "To love you musnt tear down your walls but find a way to scale them."

When I had left I couldn't entirely explain it but I felt much lighter. I didn't know who they were from but I found myself anticipating the next one.