Take Off -

Elias sat in 14A, his knuckles white as he gripped the armrests. He had spent thirty years with his feet firmly on the soil of his small town, but today, he was leaving.

As the engines began their low, guttural roar, the vibration traveled from the floorboards into his very bones. The plane taxied, paused, and then—with a sudden, breathtaking surge of power—pushed him back into his seat. The world outside the window blurred into a streak of gray and green. Then, the nose lifted.

On a Tuesday afternoon, she posted a simple video of her latest version—a small, recycled-plastic device that could "talk" to plants. She went to sleep with twelve views. She woke up to twelve thousand.