So planes are still planes: you buy a ticket, you board, they go up, you freak out over turbulence, you sip V8 or juice, they come down, and you’re thousands of miles from where you started out in a different time zone. But that bit’s just space, and doesn’t even account for That Other Time Stuff.

Green LED lights shine up in a curved pattern next to a yellow painted blacked bordered line on an airport runway under flat gray morning skies.

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