I went up to Fargo at Easter, and the flood waters were still high. But the crisis had just passed, leaving the entire city strangely static, as if it were a surreal, abandoned version of Venice. In North Dakota.
I went up to Fargo at Easter, and the flood waters were still high. But the crisis had just passed, leaving the entire city strangely static, as if it were a surreal, abandoned version of Venice. In North Dakota.