At about 8 p.m. tonight I noticed that it was getting dark very rapidly. I left my one little refrigerated room in my thrid-floor apartment and went over to the window in my bedroom. Lightning was flashing and the trees were whipping around in the wind. I leaned over to rest my elbows on the windowsill and stick my head up close to the screen, to be as close to outside as possible. The screen smelled like galvanized metal, kind of salty and bitter. The rain was coming down just a little bit, huge drops well spaced apart. The wind kept changing direction. Leaning inside the window frame, I could feel the house breathing: cooler air, along with a smattering of drops, would hit me face-on, and then things would shift and slower, heavier, warmer air would exhale around my back. I watched the electric blue flashes get closer and more in focus, and the rain got so hard I had to close the window to keep out the flood.

And that was the highlight of my night.