A breezy summer day had dawned once more over the rapidly expanding town of Swan Valley. It was warm enough for the elderly to have their daily hour of fresh air, without complaints about the weather. The employees and volunteers at Mimosa After Care Center brought the residents outside for their walks. One old man slowly walked down the path, with assistance from his cane, breathing in deeply.

He gradually left the boundaries of the home.  It was as if a permanent scowl was etched on his face, as he scanned the path he would take to Tuberose Park.

Every day, the old man left the sadness of Mimosa behind for an hour of peace in Tuberose Park, just across from the elderly home. It was the only good thing he had to look to forward to, after all he had been through in his life. He had been in love, happy and healthy at home with his wife and daughter. But his wife wasn't happy, and after he had discovered her multiple affairs, they had divorced. Shortly after, his health took a turn for the worse. The old man's only daughter had done everything to take care of him, and the doctors had convinced her that Mimosa was the best solution. She had visited every day.

But those days turned into weeks.

And soon, they became months.

Until those months became years.

And those years eventually became a Christmas card with his grandchildren smiling up at him.

There was no love for a person once they lived in a senior's home, and the old man had lost his faith in, the once abundant amount of, love in his life.

Bitter and grim, the old man walked through the path of Tuberose Park, to his favourite bench underneath one of the weeping willow trees. Sitting on the bench, his hands crossed over his cane, he gazed around the park. The birds chirped, swooping low, crossing each other's flight path. A squirrel chattered, running by him. He sighed, and stared into space. Was this how his life would be? Always alone, until the day he died?

Dejected, the man stared at the two birds, and shook his head. For a while, the pathway was quiet. Just an old man, birds, and some squirrels. A few people walked by, paying no attention to him, as if he was a statue. Good, he thought, because all these young, disrespectful kids with their darned technology and new fangled i-thingies are just started down the path for destruction. They probably believe in true love, but everywhere he had looked, he simply saw lies...

That one girl, she was probably using the boy who hung on her arm, completely enthralled with her, to make someone jealous.

Across the park, another girl was glued onto the face of a young man. That wouldn't last once the boy had his way.

He let out something akin to a bitter chuckle, and glared. He'd be damned if love was out there, and if it was, and there really was a God up there, they could darn well prove it to him. The old man sniffed and turned his attention back to the now quiet path.

After a few moments, a soft giggle reached the man's ears, the low murmuring of a smooth baritone voice with it. He felt a little pang of sadness-although he'd probably deny it to anyone who asked. The senior turned his attention to the right of the pathway, where a teenaged couple, holding hands, were slowly walking.

Unlike the other couples he had seen, these two didn't have any of those fancy phones or music players with them. The girl was one head shorter than the boy, inky tresses floating around her as the wind blew. She smiled up at the boy, and giggled once more, as a spark of excitement lit her eyes.

The boy grinned down at her, his dark black hair sticking out in all manner of directions. If the old man didn't know any better, he would've criticized the boy as having rolled out of bed and avoided all hair brushes around him. The teenager held the girl's hand, his thumb rubbing her hand every so often. His plain t-shirt had been blowing up in the breeze-the source of the girl's laughter, the senior guessed.

What so enthralled him about this couple was how they didn't have eyes for anyone else. The boy didn't notice the blonde girl who was down the path, starring openly at him. He only had eyes for the short girl who accompanied him. She only had eyes for him, paying no attention to her surroundings, just those bright blue eyes of her boyfriend.

The gloomy old man, after so many years of hate and distrust, felt something in his heart. Looking at the couple, he realized that they had completely lost sense of time, in each other's arms. Any horrible events in the past, any uncertain futures to face, were lost to them. Completely bewitched with each other, it seemed to him as if the couple were the only things that existed to each other.

A chilly breeze blew past, and the girl shivered. The young boy spun her around, emitting another squeal of delight from the girl, and pulled her closer to his body. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and the boy pecked the top of her head, lowering his head on hers. He watched; as the young couple walked by, the girl looking right into the boy's eyes. It was as if their eyes were the windows to their souls, and they had some form of a connection. They passed by and turned the corner, moulded together, and the old man did something he hadn't done in years.

He smiled.
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With the hour almost up, the old man walked back to Mimosa. His thoughts kept returning to the young couple. It was as if they had followed him back to his home-and he couldn't stop thinking about what he saw in their eyes.

Love.

True love.

And maybe, the old man thought, just maybe, there was still love in his life-he just needed to take the first step. Heading inside Mimosa, he smiled once more. It was about time to call up his daughter...