This short story is from <Heartwarming Collection of Short Stories for Seniors: 2 Books in 1> by Bradley Windrow. It is perfect for seniors, even for dementia patients. Be sure to read until the end, as there’s a special gift waiting for you! hope you enjoy it!
Listen to your elders. Not because they’re always right but because they have more experience of being wrong. –Ogden Nash
Lillian sat in her usual chair at the senior center, rubbing her knee and wincing slightly.
“Storm’s coming,” she muttered under her breath. Her friends gathered around the table and exchanged amused glances. They’d heard this one before.
“You and that knee again?” Evelyn asked, raising an eyebrow. “The forecast says clear skies all day. I think your knee’s just looking for attention.”
“My knee has never been wrong about the weather. You’ll see.” Lillian shot her a look. Marge chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “If your knee is so good at predicting storms, maybe you should replace the weatherman.”
They all laughed, but Lillian wasn’t swayed. She had spent years fine-tuning her “knee radar,” today, it was flaring up like never before. Despite the local meteorologist confidently predicting sunshine and blue skies, Lillian knew better. That afternoon, the group decided to meet up for a picnic in the park. Everyone teased Lillian the whole way there.
“Better bring an umbrella just in case,” Evelyn joked, grinning from ear to ear. Lillian, of course, had already packed her trusty umbrella, just waiting for the storm to prove her right.
Hours passed, and the weather couldn’t have been nicer—clear skies, a warm breeze, not a cloud in sight. Lillian’s knee continued to throb, but the sun beat down mockingly.
“Looks like your knee’s getting rusty,” Marge said between bites of her sandwich.
“You just wait.” Lillian crossed her arms, staring out at the horizon. By late afternoon, the wind shifted. Lillian’s knee began to ache even more, and she spotted something far off in the distance—dark clouds creeping in.
“Here it comes.” She smirked. Her friends rolled their eyes.
“It’s just a few clouds,” Evelyn said, though her voice had a hint of unease. Then, almost as if the sky was playing catch-up to Lillian’s knee, the wind picked up speed, rustling the trees. The sky darkened faster than expected, and within minutes, rain poured down in sheets. Thunder boomed, and lightning split the sky.
The group scrambled to gather their picnic supplies. Marge nearly tripped over the blanket in her rush to get to the car while Evelyn tried and failed to cover herself with a newspaper. Lillian, meanwhile, calmly popped open her umbrella and strolled toward the shelter, smiling to herself.
“Well, would you look at that?” Marge sputtered, drenched to the bone. “The weatherman got it wrong.”
“I told you!” Lillian called back, barely able to contain her smug grin. “My knee never lies.”
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