It was more an argument where the little disagreements had ended up so entangled that every new word was treacherously booby-trapped,
and in the end it wasn’t possible to open one’s mouth at all without setting off at least four unexploded mines from earlier conflicts.
It was the sort of argument that had just run, and run, and run.
Until one day it just ran out. It wasn’t really about cars, properly speaking.
But Ove drove a Saab, after all. And Rune drove a Volvo.
Anyone could have seen it wouldn’t work out in the long run.
In the beginning, though, they had been friends. Or, at least, friends to the extent that men like Ove and Rune were capable of being friends.
Mostly for the sake of their wives, obviously. All four of them had moved into the area at the same time,
and Sonja and Anita became instant best friends as only women married to men like Ove and Rune can be.
Ove recalled that he had at least not disliked Rune in those early years, as far as he could remember.
They were the ones who set up the Residents’ Association, Ove as chairman and Rune as assistant chairman.
They had stuck together when the council wanted to cut down the forest behind Ove’s and Rune’s houses in order to build even more houses.
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