An imaginative response to the song "Ironic" by Alanis Morisette.
"An old man turned 98, he won the lottery and died the next day"
John woke up around eight in the morning, he looked out of his window as he lay there in his hospital bed. He had got used to the pain, the digging in his side, it was as if he was repeatedly being hit with a baseball bat. He would lye there staring out of the same window, looking at the same buildings, thinking the same things.
His grand daughter and her son would visit him every Saturday. He enjoyed their company, apart from them the only people he had to talk to were the nurses that would come to see how he was and bring him his food.
Today was Saturday, John was 98 today, all the doctors and nurses had been saying how good he looked for his age.
He had been waiting all day for his grand daughter and her son to arrive. Sure enough they did, His grand daughter brought him some flowers and his grandson, James who was six years old, bought him a box of chocolates. They both wished him Happy Birthday and sat down next to him. John thanked them both for the presents as he put them on the table next to his bed. They talked about how James was getting on at school and how John's grand daughter was doing at work. John remembered that he needed to get his lottery ticket, he asked his daughter to get it for him. They joked about it being a waste of money and even if they tried they would not be able to spend that much money. She left James talking to John as she went off to buy...