Wordless Wednesday | Coffee Break

A picture that requires no words.

Aptly posted for Wordless Wednesday.

Somewhat odd colors due to the filter used in Vignette for Android.

Looking Through Glass

Progress! About 1.5 million days ago this would have been unheard of. 

I stood in a photo exhibition in fairly dim light, and this looked like an interesting motif. So I switched on the camera, raised it, looked through the viewfinder and pressed the button. All possible thanks to glass in so many ways. The viewfinder is made of glass, the lens on the camera is made of glass, the reflection I photographed is all due to glass, and the photos hung on the wall are protected by glass. A great big cheer to glass!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Written for Friday Writings #252: Looking Through Glass.

All true! What about the 1.5 million days? Doesn’t really sound that long ago, does it? But divide that by 365 and you get about 2000 B.C., which adds more of a perspective than a number of days. According to Wikipedia, the earliest man-made glass objects are dated to about that time.

Old town of Paliano | Wordless Wednesday

Paliano, Lazio, Italy

Leica Z2X on Lomochrome Purple film

Posted for Wordless Wednesday

Día de un Muerto

 ...

Between Zacatecas and Torreón, the train came to a stop in the middle of nowhere for hours. Rumors of an accident were circulating. Reportedly, a man had been killed when trying to jump onto the train. I walked five cars down to the spot where a crowd had gathered. I couldn’t see what had piqued their curiosity, but a few police officers in the center of the crowd were making emphatic gestures. There were also three dark-skinned figures standing there – two small and slender, one stooped and veiled.

“Kneel, señor, you must kneel!,” the veiled woman said.

“Why is she saying that, André?,” said Nicole, standing next to me.

“I don’t know. I’m just thinking: am I evil, or is she?”

“Why turn this into a question of good and evil? Let’s just assume that you’re perfectly ordinary, and she’s a bit demonic.”

“If you say so, my beauty.”

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Posted for Friday Writings #251: Halloween and Día de Muertos. This is actually an excerpt from a story originally written in the 1980s and published in German translation in 2005. I remembered it when I read today’s writing prompt because it plays in Mexico and includes several seemingly random encounters with the veiled lady that culminate in the fatal accident described in this ending part of the story.

Stuttgart Beer Festival / Wordless Wednesday

At the Cannstatter Wasen in October for the world's second largest beer festival in Stuttgart a few years ago. Posted for Wordless Wednesday.

Laundry Day | Taken on Tuesday

Hung up this morning. Today's autumn sunshine promises to dry it fast.

I explained to you exactly

why I love you.

A mushroom was growing out of your nose.

Because of the mushroom, you couldn't speak.

But you explained to me nonetheless that I hadn’t understood a thing.

Which I realized!

Where your eyes must have been, behind the ever-growing mushroom, sprigs of parsley were sprouting.

Your mouth dropped like a potato, still mouthing something as it was falling down.

Startled, I stepped back before your mushroom head could touch me or the parsley could tickle me.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Posted in response to Friday Writings #250: Memories and Dreams, this is actually the translation of a surreal dream I’d originally written down in German. The painting above by Giuseppe Arcimboldo (1526-1593) would seem a good match for this vegetable-centric dream.

Love, one-sided

Here’s that black thing

attacking my nose from

the air, trying to sit down

on my arm, hand, foot,

thigh, my food – particularly

my food

Loves me so much

it can’t and won’t 

leave me alone

And here I am with

nothing but murder

in my mind

But way too slow

for execution

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
Once again nothing but the prosaic truth turned into poetry. This one-sided love story has been going on for four days now. Ever since this specimen flew in through an open door and simply refuses to leave.

Wordless Wednesday | Public Art

Double exposure photograph of street art found on the wall of a market in Rome. Redmi 14 with Vignette for Android.

Posted for Wordless Wednesday. 

Ghost Rider / Taken on Tuesday

If you take a good look inside the car, you can see that a ghost is riding along.

Photo taken today, on Tuesday, and the beginning of what will hopefully become a series of Tuesday photos.

Scherzo 176

Scherzo 176

One of a large series of paintings, mostly executed in gouache on paper, that are inspired by the idea of the musical scherzo – light-hearted pieces with a lively movement. This one is available as a digital collectible.

Angelic Messages

Today’s task from Friday Writings #249: Message from an Angel

Not getting any instant inspiration, I thought about this for some time and remembered that we used to play angel cards in the family circle – typically on New Year’s Eve. But what happened to that deck of angel cards? They had to be somewhere. 

Being reluctant to go on a hunt that might take hours, I remembered that there usually are digital solutions to everything nowadays and searched the Internet, where a bunch of offers for free angel card readings can be found, most of which turn out not to be so totally free after all. Commerce, commerce!

Eventually I came upon a site that offered a gratis first card reading, and I made use of that to draw 3 cards.

1. Shine your inner light (supposedly from the Archangel Uriel)

2. Relax (from, lo and behold, the Angel of Relaxation)

3. Enter into the void (again from Uriel)

All right, I will follow the advice of all three. 

The relaxation should the easiest. Takes no effort apart from sitting back, letting go of that pencil (or the keys under my fingers), simply taking it easy. In a bit!

Shining my light – I’ll do my best. Right here, for example. But I’ll venture out in some time, which will include spreading the light I have to offer. Spreading light in these ages marked by a lot of dark seems like a good idea. 

But then the other challenge from Uriel ... how do I enter into the void? I’ll try, carefully, one cautious step into emptiness at a time.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026) 

(Headed by a song by Heather Nova somewhat related to the topic.)

Wordless Wednesday - By the Side of the Street

Long shot - Olympus E-620 with Zuiko Digital 70-300 mm. Posted for Wordless Wednesday.

Noise

Being a reluctant and foreign part of an assembly of natives, I try my best to get the gist of what’s on the agenda. However, given the inborn nature of these natives – which is to be extremely talkative and get heated up about things very easily – and a particular medical condition I have (my ears simply cannot filter out individual voices in loud groups), most of it is incomprehensible to me, like white noise.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note

This little shred of prose is definitely based on real experience.

Inspired by Friday Writings #248: Noisy!

Wordless Wednesday - Street Realities

 Posted for Wordless Wednesday (Olympus 35SP on Kodak ProImage film)

Another Day

Today’s Friday, and so far it’s been lousy. I ride my bike from one dumpster location to the next, rummage through the bins in search of something saleable or reusable. Slim pickings today. No scrap metal to sell to Bruno, no electronic gadgets that look like they could be fixed, no clothes I could resell. It’s past noon – time to have something to eat. I’m terribly hungry. No need to pull out my wallet – all it contains is some copper coins, and those won’t buy a thing. 

Not much is happening, people are at home cooking or eating. I’ve been sitting on the wall across from the dumpsters on Via Sapori – away from the ones that stink the most – for half an hour. But wait – here comes someone. It’s the guy that’s given me something occasionally. Let’s try!

Hooray, I’m getting there – he gave me some brass! Now all I need is another generous sponsor like him. If all else fails, I can walk over to aunty Tsura, who’s sitting on her usual lunchtime bench, and ask her for some crumbs. She usually has enough and doesn’t mind sharing.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
This is a fundamentally true story told from the point of view of another person and was written down for Friday Writings #247: Reframing Negative Concepts.

Wordless & Abandoned

An abandoned old camper van photographed in the streets of Rome. Olympus 35SP on Kodacolor 200 film.

Posted for Wordless Wednesday.

The old movie haiku

Dr. Shiv still thriving

on TV sixty-one years

after its release.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Notes

This little ditty refers to a movie which could be called Die Hard No. 2 (Die Hard No. 1 would be Gone with the Wind) because it inevitably keeps coming back to the screen – at least that of television sets. Dr. Shivago, which hit the cinemas in 1965 (sixty-one years ago), turned the impersonator of its protagonist, Egyptian actor Omar Sharif, into a big movie star. He is shown here in a still shot from the film taken from a flat screen TV (hence the horrible moiré effect) with a cell phone camera.

Someone's autumn is another one's spring

It feels like a headstand

to think of spring

now that everything here is

turning yellow and orange

and dropping off

Not that easy to comprehend

things are shooting out

of the ground, turning

green and flowery and

unfolding down south

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Written for Friday Writings #246: Light-hearted words for Spring (the prompt originated in the southern hemisphere).

Turquoise Night

Posted for Wordless Wednesday. Digital photograph created with Vignette for Android on a Sony Xperia MiniPro. Also available for collectors on Objkt.

Family, well ...

 Family’s great, right? And blood is thicker than water, right? Well, well, well ...

My father had a five siblings – Christine, Otto, Ernest, Emmy, Eugene. He, William, was the baby.

In general, the brothers and sisters got along very well, particularly while their parents were alive, but there were some issues that came up as they got older.

Their father had a company, and soon the question arose who would follow in his footsteps. This was in the 1930s, so – of course – the girls were not even considered. It was then that Otto said he didn’t want Bill in the management even though by that time he had a degree in engineering and was well qualified. However, the rest of the siblings, including my aunts, vetoed this, so the management ended up being a board of four. Gene, the businessman, had a brain for numbers and was largely responsible for business decisions. Ernest largely called the product development shots, coming up with mostly good ideas but also some that ended up losing money. Bill was inventive and a problem solver. He had the ability to turn something from the drawing board into a perfectly functioning product. Otto – well, no-one knew exactly what his contribution was. He spent most of his time walking around the halls and barking commands at the workers. Who mostly shook their heads behind his back.

Things went fairly well for all appearances. But underneath the surface there was a bitter rivalry between Ernest and Eugene, which was also fomented by their wives, neither of whom had a single good word to say about the other. Their children learned to disklike each other and be envious and wary of each other at an early age. Even the dogs – one per family – hated each other and would fight, sometimes with serious injuries, whenever they had a chance.

My sister and I – Bill’s offspring – were quite a bit younger than our cousins, generally got along with everyone and were too naive to perceive the numerous tensions.

Once the older generation retired, the company essentially passed on to Ernest’s son-in-law and Eugene’s son, who had to get along to some extent but had completely opposite views and made no secret of their mutual disdain.

The company continues to exist and thrive to this very day, now in the fourth generation, still run by family members who basically hate each other, agree on hardly anything and still somehow keep pulling things together.

But that’s family, right?

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Written for Friday Writings #245: Family.

Disclaimer
Similarities with people living or dead are entirely coincidental.

Cefalù, Sicily

A view of Cefalù, Sicily, from a nearby beach. Strange colors due to the creative film used. Available as a collectible.

Leica R5 with 50 mm Leitz Summilux on Lomochrome Turquoise film.

The lucky haiku

Haiku! he said as 
part of a sneeze. As we all 
know, this brings good luck.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Greatly Fictionalized – an Updated Fairytale

 

My name is Cynthia McFarland, from the reputable family in the Cavendish Moors. I am better known as Cinderella, the heroine of a well-known fairytale. Some elements of the tale are true – the horrible stepmother and the envious nasty stepsisters. But I did not talk to pigeons and I never rode in an oversized pumpkin.

Even the glass slipper is pure embroidery. Perhaps someone came up with that idea because of the performance at the ball that night, where a boy artist walked across a five foot line of champagne flutes without falling off or breaking any of them. Something else that also happened was that my stepsister Metallia got so drunk that she asked for more champagne to be poured in the slipper she had removed from her not so dainty foot. With the result that some high-price bubbles were wasted as it all drained to the floor through the openings in the slipper. Upon which she made an un-lady-like remark and put the wet slipper back on, narrowly avoiding a collision with the floor as she was doing so.

Anyway, there were no bloody toes due to one of my sisters trying out a slipper that did not fit.

It is true, though, that my slippers were involved in the story, because I left them under the curtains in the ballroom.

“How can I find you, my unknown angel?” the prince said as I told him I had to leave after our last dance. 

“If you look, you will find something of mine hidden under heavy brocade, and this will tell you.”

Two days later, a carriage bearing the royal insignia arrived in front of our manor; a uniformed servant and the prince stepped out. The servant proclaimed that His Majesty Prince Dilip requested to see the lady of the house. Who, of course, was enchanted by the visit, thinking of an impending alliance of her offspring with the royal house.

“Dear Lady McFarland, there is something I have to return to your daughter.”

“Oh my dear – what could it be? – Shall I call for Metallia or Auralia?”

“It is for your daughter Cynthia.”

The look on her face when she heard this must have been priceless.

I was called eventually, even though I had on my sports clothes, having practiced martial arts as I always did in the morning.

“My dear Cynthia, you have a princely visitor who wishes to return something to you. Even though I wonder what it could possibly be.”

On a sign by the prince, the servant stepped up to me and presented a box covered in golden cloth.

“I believe these belong to you, Countess,” the prince said, “and am returning them to renew our acquaintance.”

I had left a little note with my name in the slippers when I left them in the ballroom.

The rest is history – he asked for my hand, we had a wonderful wedding in the royal palace and lived happily ever after, as is the end of all fairytales. Even though it could be added that three semi-relatives of mine were a bit less than happy.

– Leonard Blumfeld writing from the perspective of Cynthia McFarland (© 2026)

Notes
This story was inspired by and written for Friday Writings #244: If the Glass Slipper Fits. 

Means of Transport

Slightly glitched (taken with an app called GlitchCam).

Posted for Wordless Wednesday.

The commercial TV haiku

or: the sharks never get their mouth full enough

Wham bam – next
commercial break. Trip to
bathroom again.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
Seems like the likes of Netflix and Amazon have lost any semblance of shame by ramping up their commercial servings. Even though they get paid, they obviously think they’re not getting paid enough. What’s the ratio now – five minutes of viewing, then five minutes of commercials, then repeat? By the time you've finished a show, you know the commercials better than the plot.

My gripes with you

1. You do not rinse the dishes before you put them in the dishwasher.

2. Forks go in with the fork end up, knives with the cutting end up. You do it randomly.

3. I have a system for the plates you do not follow: the big plates go on the right, the smaller ones and soup plates on the left.

4. You teach the children how to put things in the dishwasher the wrong way.

5. You move things around the way it suits you or do not put them back in the right place.

6. This includes books on the shelves, CDs and framed photographs.

7. Your cynical remarks imply that you have a liberal view of things.

8. This includes remarks that imply that the current president is not a good choice for the country.

9. You once said that you hoped for my sake that my son would end up marrying a black or Asian girl. Later you said it had been a joke.

10. But I know it was not a joke, even though it’s true that you may have had too much to drink as you said.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note

Written for Friday Writings #243: By the Numbers.

Disclaimer

All similarities of the people mentioned or described here with real characters living or passed away are entirely coincidental.

Riga, Latvia

Posted for Wordless Wednesday

Leica R4 with 50 mm Summilux lens on Harman Switch Azure film, a creative film with color shifts.

A not so uncommon perspective

I can't stop staring at him from across the classroom. Such a dear face – good jawline, honey brown eyes with a warmth that mark my universe, and the way his dark curls fall just so over his forehead. He's laughing at something the guy next to him said, and that smile – it’s like a halo. My stomach flips every time I get so see it. Why does he have to be so ridiculously handsome? It's unfair.

And the guitar. Yesterday after school I hung around the music room, pretending to look for a lost something, just so I could hear him practice. Those fingers caressing the strings like they were born for it. The soft acoustic notes filled the room, and I stood frozen, heart pounding so loud I thought he'd hear it. He plays with effortless passion, eyes half-closed, completely lost in the music. I imagine him playing for me someday, but most likely that will never happen.

He doesn't even pretend to know me. Whenever he happens to look at me, which has happened a few times, I feel I’m just another face in school. While I'm composing entire futures in my head – us walking home together, him teaching me a few chords, maybe even kissing down by the lake during a bonfire – he's probably thinking about next week's soccer practice or whatever popular girl is currently orbiting him. I saw Ginevra lean in close today, whispering something that made him grin. My chest tightened so I could barely breathe.

I try to focus on the teacher's voice, on the scribbledegook on the board, but my mind drifts right back. What would it feel like if he looked at me the way I look at him? Long enough to notice I catch my breath whenever he walks by. Long enough to notice that I exist. I stay quiet, keep my head down and let the crush eat away at me in silence. It's stupid. It's painful. And still, every morning, I hope this day might be different.

– Invisible Paula

Written for Friday Writings #242: Perspective. 

Bog trail in Estonia

 

Posted for Wordless Wednesday

A contemporary haiku

 

It’s adamantly
innocuous, tangibly
delicious, munchy.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
This one sort of parodies the contemporary (over)use of unusual adjective / adverb constructions, which must have originated from some creative writing workshop teachings or simply is trendy. Their purpose seems to be to inject more poeticity.

A street in Hamburg

Posted for Wordless Wednesday

New Delhi at Night

Posted for Wordless Wednesday.

Diagnosis

 I went to see the doctor.

“What are your symptoms, Mr. ... Um?”

“For a while now I’ve found it hard to enjoy myself, to see the funny side of things. Whatever the news, things are always on the sad side. Global and personal.”

The doctor took out his stethoscope and started listening to my inner workings in various places. Finally stopped to follow up with palpitation. Sat there without saying anything for a minute.

“Doctor?”

“Mr. ... Um ... Blumfeld. Your funny bone is broken.”

“And what can be done about that? A cast?”

“Nothing whatsoever. It simply takes a lot of self-healing. And the realization that both sad and humorous things don’t depend on you. It’s all about what you make of them.”

“Thank you, doctor. I could have come to the same conclusion reading Deepak Chopra.”

“That will be 120 euros. The receptionist handles payments.”

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Written for the prompt “down to the bone” at Poets and Storytellers United.

Hamburg Skyline

 Posted for Wordless Wednesday.

The August in Rome Haiku

 

It’s brutal out there –
feels like getting cooked as you
walk on the pavement

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
Nothing but the not very poetic global warming truth.

Blurry and red

Ostiense

Part of Rome, Italy. Hanimex 110 IF pocket camera on Lomography Lobster film (a redscale film). A contribution to Wordless Wednesday.

Meta Haiku

Trying to write one
based on reading one about 
writing a haiku.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
That’s exactly what happened here. Plain, flat truth! If we were in frog land instead of poetry land, one haiku would be leapfrogging the other.

You must haiku

Like you must see this
hyaluronic acid eye
commercial. So good!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Notes
So he said let’s haiku – too much time has passed without. Nothing but the truth as usual. Except the invented parts. 

The summer moon haiku

 

The summer moon im-
bibed God knows what and spat it
out disgustedly

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
Derived from today’s prompt from Daily Haiku Prompt, which was “Summer Moon” for north and “Imbibe” for south. Once again, I combined both in an entirely unhaikuistic manner.

The bonnet haiku

 

The confetti trees
and somewhere among them your
calico bonnet. Yes!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
This one came seemingly out of nowhere and but also resulted from a confluence of things that occurred: a) I read someone else’s haiku, b) I walked by Barbara Guest’s The Confetti Trees lying on a chair in my office, and c) I thought of the song Return of the Grievous Angel by Gram Parsons, which has the line “And I thought about a calico bonnet from Cheyenne to Tennessee.” To my knowledge, this is the only instance of a calico bonnet in contemporary music.

Applied math

 

The proverb says:

An apple a day keeps the doctor away.

Hence, applying simple math:

Five apples a day keep five doctors away.

This is definitely mathematically correct. Right? Or did I get it all wrong?

Maybe the proverb actually says:

A doctor a day keeps an apple away?

Maa Ka Sum (2026 Hindi TV Series)

 

If you've never had much of a liking for mathematics (like yours truly), this Indian comedy/drama series is bound to take your dislike up to 100% in no time. Never before has there been anything so full of blackboards with formula gibberish and dialogs equally filled with math and algorithm nonsense.

What it boils down to is that Agastya, a math student and prodigy, is convinced that he can program the perfect dating app using mathematical formulas and algorithms to find the perfectly matched partner for his mother, who has not been very lucky in that department.

I’ll give you three guesses as to whether this will work in the end.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

The Artemis Haiku

Moon oh moon, old grouch:
if you say you’re surrounded,
we’ll say we’re circled

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
Artemis is preparing to circle the moon as this was written, while the moon was circling us as usual.

The cleaning lady vs. books haiku

Now that she’s dusted
them, they have been rearranged
in order of height.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Notes
Once again, the more or less poetic truth and nothing but. Even though not the whole story has been told  – as can be seen in the photo, some of them are also upside down. Fortunately, she did not have a height problem with the CDs, some of which are also present in the same piece of furniture. I dread to check what she’s done to the original sequence, though.

Aftertought
Sinclair Lewis is present three times in the picture, but World So Wide, his posthumous 1951 novel, after which this blog is named, is not among them.

The things we come to know haiku

Now that we are shar-
ing an apartment, I know
how much she does snore.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
I got creative in three short lines due to something I overheard at the next table in a restaurant.

Minimal list of things experienced today

Some cracknut insists
he wants Greenland. Beer bottles
and dog scats galore.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Notes
This is, of course, a much reduced list of today’s experiences – things heard or seen at home or on walks. Had to keep things short to cram it all into a haiku.

It's never too late to learn some French

 

Last night, as I watched the 1st episode of Emily in Paris, which had been recommended by a friend, she was called a "plouc" by her lovely French colleagues. I had not come across that word before and looked it up - it means "hick". Wow! These French people really appreciate their American co-worker!

Sometimes it's even possible to learn something from a TV series.