Jack sat in HIS corner, yes, HIS corner, quietly muttering to himself.
“I’m a good boy… I’m a good boy… I’m a good boy…”
There was a noise at the door.
“Horner! Meal time!” the orderly called, sliding the tray of questionable food through the little slot.
Jack scurried over to the tray, dragging it back to HIS corner.
He shoved his hand into the slop in the bowl, shoveling handful after handful into his mouth.
“Where’s the plum… Where’s the plum?” he muttered as he set the bowl back on the tray, sliding it back to the door for the man to take.
“What a good boy am I!”