In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

27 K ate G ale Molasses and Honey I must have been small. The molasses was even with my eyes across the table, blackstrap molasses for toast. Beside it, honey. The molasses is thick and bitter. Which would you like, she asks. I can’t see into the honey bowl. I say, Molasses. She usually gives, what I don’t want. She pours the thick black liquid with hairy hands, eats honey herself. All the grownups eat honey. I crunch my toast, staining my small fingers. Now I sit cross legged, gathering my husband, my children, my books, but I do not speak as we eat our toast and honey. Someone with hairy hands waits to pull the honey bowl away, to pour molasses on my bread. Some days, those hairy hands are all around me. ...

Share