'Excerpted from A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman, ©2012:
Her friends couldn't see why she woke up every morning and voluntarily decided to share the day with him. He couldn't either. He build her a bookshelf and she filled it with books by people who wrote page after page about their feelings. Ove understood things he could see and touch. Wood and concrete. Glass and steel. Tools. Things one could figure out. He understood right angles and clear instruction manuals. Assembly models and drawings. Things one could draw on paper.
He was a man of black and white.
And she was color. All the color he had.
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