
As dawn begins to break over the incredible vastness of the Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport, the trams are runningtraffic has picked up, and another travel day is ready to begin.
As dawn begins to break over the incredible vastness of the Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport, the trams are runningtraffic has picked up, and another travel day is ready to begin.
That’s right — I am everywhere and nowhere, in the Generic Airport Concourse Zone, where the gates and walkways and vendors all look precisely the same, indistinguishable in their drab sameness. It is a temporary, soulless, transitory place, suitable only for moving on.
This particular outpost of the GACZ is at DFW. And like every exposure to the GACZ, this one has only one benefit — it makes home feel even more like heaven.