It's like going into church when you were little. But instead of Dad's hand, I hold the steering wheel tightly. The ornaments on the church pews are replaced by the unwavering silhouettes of the pine trees. And in the evening, when the uneaten ice cream strips cool in the refrigerator and the rain makes peace with the snow, the sign with the text Hultsteins Elektriska i mörkrets samn goes out. The light is gently carried on by Advent candles and the illuminated cross of the Filadelfia Church. Scattered glimmers of light trickle from an after-party. There are a few brave souls from Rörviks trä och laminat's annual Christmas party. I put my cheek against the silver-gray, smoked plush sofa. I feel the rough coziness

Det är som att gå in i kyrkan när man är liten. Men i stället för pappas hand håller jag hårt om ratten. Kyrkbänkarnas ornament byts mot tallarnas orubbliga siluetter. …

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