The sound of keys being jangled outside the cell door woke Irwin from his sleep. He had been alone in his cell for so long that he had almost lost track of time. All he had to go by was the rhythm of the prison, and that was at the whim of the warders. Irwin was sure that his gaolers would alter their routine without warning just to put him off-balance and make him doubt his sanity. But, having no objective measure of time, there was no proof. Except for one thing.

There was a scraping noise as the cell door opened. Irwin got up from his bed and stood to attention, ready for whatever abuse was intended for him.

"Prisoner 8614," the guard announced as he came in.

"Sir" Irwin responded in as neutral as tone as he could. There was no sense in deliberately antagonising the prison guards. This was a lesson that Irwin had learnt quickly and taken to heart.

The guard was carrying a small cardboard box, bound in a cat's cradle of twine. "It's your lucky day, 8614." He set the box down on the table that was one of the three pieces of furniture in the cell. "Go on. Open it."

Irwin went to the table, careful not to take his eyes off the guard, and undid the string around the box. Inside was a small cake, iced with the words 'Happy Birthday'.

"There y'go," said the guard. "Many happy returns. That's another year you've been in this shithole for."

Irwin kept staring at the cake. He didn't take his eyes from it until the guard, disappointed at Irwin's lack of reaction, left the cell, locking the door behind him. Then Irwin lifted the pastry out of the box and smiled.

"That's one less year to go, then," he said to no-one in particular, and took a bite of the cake.