I have a friend who stood in the dying light, who looked and despaired as the sign dimmed, vanishing into the night.
She, sighing, turned home to empty screen, vacant, chagrined.
Cash Wise Video will close, another chapter parting in a book we must read— having few options left.
Endless slumber lurks, too, for the bereft. Must we concede?
What would we give for one night or seven or a thousand more with our rentals, to undo this funeral procession, to enter the night, but not go gentle?
Now who holds our future and ancient lore?
West Fargo’s last Premiere Video store.
