As I opened the refrigerator door, my wife’s words of warning reverberated in my ears, “No more sweets, or you’ll be in a right royal jam!”
But her words soon faded away, and all I could see was a treasure trove of cakes, pastries, muffins…and standing tall amidst them, a bottle of fresh home-made rhubarb jam.
I took out the bottle, gazing at it lovingly, when suddenly, the lights came on, and a voice, possibly belonging to the owner of the house, spoke sharply, “Gotcha! Robert, keep the gun trained on this thief while I call the police.”
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Written in response to the Carrot Ranch flash fiction prompt, Sweet Jam.
jagahdilmein 
uh oh…..
🙂
Another fun twits… too much of a sweet tooth!
I know there are more rules with haiku than I follow… Just enjoy what you like to write 🙂
Thank you so much Jules 🙂
Oh, that was supposed to be twist! 😉
Very good – that is a jam. Comes from having too sweet a tooth. 🙂
Thank you so much Norah 🙂
Aw, poor guy just needed a sweet fix.
Yeah 🙂
“…perhaps the owner of the house…” Ha! I like how you slipped that in and realize that the character is not raiding his own refrigerator.
Yeah, would have been too ambiguous otherwise, especially with the word limit 🙂
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