A Slight Misconception

The clanking of the glass jars in the basket was in perfect rhythm with the frantic footsteps of Clyde Hopkins as he bombarded the many snarled trees in his path. As if the aroma of brown sugar and mandarin oranges wasn’t enough to track him down, he was faced with massive, overgrown vines that made his escape much more difficult. He would occasionally crane his neck over his shoulder to check for the hooded villain, and after a few glances, the figure was no longer in sight. He seized this opportunity to change directions and seek a hiding place. Hopkins was an expert on finding the perfect camouflage, and when he saw tower looming ahead, he quickly bounded down the path once again, the hunger filling his large, black eyes as he neared having the opportunity to finally receive nourishment.
The spire was in failing condition, with chipped concrete here and there and parasitic vines sprawling upward in its absence. Smoke billowed from a pipe lodged into the top, showing signs of residency, and surrounding the entire structure was a pond of thick, murky ice. A handmade bridge joined the two sturdier surfaces for an easier transit, much to Clyde’s relief since he could not swim. He slowly outstretched his stubby leg onto the first rotted plank when he heard a shout from within the woods behind him, which sent him hysterically dodging holes in the bridge towards the tower. He then kicked open the door, and much to his surprise, there sat a woman of great age nestled in a large bed near a fireplace. Her eyes widened behind her inch-thick spectacles in shock of the large rabbit in her doorway.
”Grandma! Oh Grandma, I do apologize,” Little Red exclaimed from behind.
”Mr. Hop-kins is always after those baskets!”