The Wind off the Clyde

Only the cut-glass wind and a cloud-wreathed Christmas Eve moon trouble the dark surface of the Clyde.

In the wee hours, river-cold coils around the destitute, their blankets threadbare and their cardboard ragged. They look northwards not for St. Nicholas but for the Campsies, black against the breaking dawn.

*Thanks for reading, folks. Image courtesy of Wikipedia. Visit Shelter if you can donate anything this Christmas. Recent stories of mine include ‘Something Borrowed, Something New‘ and ‘Alder, Beech, Hawthorn, and Hazel‘.

Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at and tweets at

13 thoughts on “The Wind off the Clyde

      1. I am honored to read through this post today. Your background is phenomenal! Plus, before diving into your short read, I fell in love with the website design. I feel mine is far from over, but it’s relaxing to sit down and spend time reading great literary works like yours (and many others of course).

        Liked by 1 person

  1. You’ve woven so much imagery into these brief paragraphs, Matthew. Deeply moving.

    If your other responsibilities leave you little time, I, for one, can manage for a while admiring fine social portraits such as this one.

    Liked by 1 person

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