A quote from From “Extreme Solitude” by Jeffrey Eugenides, The New Yorker

Outside, the temperature, which had been below freezing for the past week, had shot up to the fifties. The resulting thaw was alarming in its suddenness, drainpipes and gutters dripping, sidewalks puddling, streets flooded, a constant sound of water rushing downhill.

Madeleine had her windows open on the liquid darkness.