"The park is beautiful," the one would say, then go on to describe the people walking there. One day he began to tell about a lovely young nurse who seemed to walk through the park at the same time each day. " She's lovely," he would say," —so young, so alive. I wish you could see her." This went on for several days, when finally the man nearest the window noticed that a young intern seemed to becoming from the opposite direction from the nurse at the same time each day. They didn't know each other and the first few days only nodded as they passed. But, then, the man said, they began to stop briefly for a chat. Before long romance had blossomed and they began meeting there on a bench, catching ten or fifteen minutes together before going to their appointed duties. The man also would describe the beauty of the park —the green grass, the summer flowers, the tall, shady trees. The man by the window painted the picture as best he could for his companion.

Then one night, he died abruptly, the victim of a final heart attack. A few days after the funeral, the other elderly man asked the staff if he might be moved to the bed by the window. He missed so much not knowing what was going on in the park below. That evening, his wish was granted and he was moved to the other bed. He could hardly wait for the next morning when he would be able to look out and get a good view of the park and all the lovely things his friend had described, especially the young nurse and her intern. At the crack of dawn the next morning, he raised himself on one elbow and looked out the window. There was nothing there but a dreary, asphalt-covered parking lot!