A Twist of Honey

I noticed the turned wooden honey dipper resting crookedly across the rim of the yellow ceramic pot on the breakfast counter. A heavy, golden drop was swelling at the lowest groove, ready to fall onto the clean breadboard. Taking an unhurried breath, I stepped close and took hold of the smooth beechwood handle with both plush paws. I gave it a slow, deliberate twist. The thick ribbon of honey coiled obediently back around the carved ridges, lifting away from the board. I guided the handle down into the jar's resting notch with a quiet click, then tasted a tiny golden dab left on my plush knuckle. It was wonderfully sweet.