I don’t know about this, it’s the beginnings of something maybe?  It’s very rough, of course, but I promised a friend I would put up what I had and this is all that’s readable of it so far.  The rest is just a little…well I’m not happy with it.

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Glasgow. It was a city of possibility to him. His father had made some sort of living for himself, he was making enough money to send back home and have enough to feed and clothe himself. It was just natural to assume that he could do the same if not even better by moving to the west, it would have to benefit his children in some way. At the end of the day the reason any of them did anything was so that future generations would have the chances that they didn’t. He wasn’t educated, any ambitions he had had never surfaced far enough to actually evolve into reality, but that didn’t mean he didn’t take pride in the work he did.

Work kept him late; he missed the usual bus with the friendly driver who would call out to him when he got to his stop. This driver didn’t even look at him when he got on the bus let alone speak to him.

“Go…” He struggled to say the words but his broken English was the only form of communication he had ‘Woo-da-lands Road?”

A tap on a sign as his only response, no chance to explain that he couldn’t read whatever the driver was pointing to. He was ushered towards a seat by the sour faced man. Dread filled Karim, his tendency to day dream on bus journeys left him with little knowledge of his surroundings. How was he supposed to know where to get off? This wasn’t Pakistan where seeing a friend of a friend of a friend meant you’d be treated to dinner and a ride home. This was a new land, somewhere colder, where people were afraid of him more than anything. If only they knew that the riddles that he heard from them frightened him more than anything he could ever say to them.