I apologise, Budapest. I’ve now visited you nearly more times than anywhere else outside of my homeland, but I’ve yet to write anything about you. Before you get the wrong idea, It’s not you, it’s me.
Or the experience you probably won’t have when you visit Hungary on account of the difficulties in finding reliable time travel devices. Also, time travel doesn’t exist, so read this short story, instead.
I’ve always liked the idea that the world sees us as a beacon of acceptance and tolerance. This is especially poignant when current prevailing opinions seem all too ready to exclude and persecute. Since becoming an immigrant myself, I’ve discovered just how true this idea is. We aren’t perfect, but everyone I meet has nothing but good things to say about Canadians as a people and a nation.
14 years ago today I sat down to write a short article about someone who’d inspired me as a writer. If you know about Towel Day, you can guess that I’m referring to Douglas Adams. In 2001, Adams unexpectedly passed away. He may not have been prophetic, but he wrote some fantastic stories. Much like Terry Pratchett, he brought healthy doses of wit and credibility to the realm of satire.