Nick Flynn: (narrating) He's seen this before. Bums sprawled out from drinking. But he's never actually stood over the blowers - let the hot air seep into his clothes. The air is sucked out of the library. Even on the coldest nights there is too much heat inside. It's another prison, these blowers, because once you've landed you can't leave. Because one step off the blower is cold, hypothermia code, now that you're sodden with steam. The blower is a room of heat with no walls. My father is an invisible man, in an invisible room, in the invisible city.