All Posts By Paula R. Hilton

Hummingbird Burial

We find it too late. Its beak, a delicate sword, stuck in our patio screen. It should be buzzing, vibrating. Searching for the sweetest sip...

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Her Unwitting Accomplices

As the automatic doors swished open, my mother began her search. The grocery store’s bakery was on our immediate right. Mom zeroed in on...

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Nest

Even in her sleep, the girl knew the wasps were back. She felt one land on her bare leg. I must wake up, I must wake up, I must wake up....

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What We Need

We are sun-baked in the sand, hand in gritty hand, when you ask me, “What’s your favorite season?” Expect me to say—Here. Now. No...

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Sage/Slut/Phoenix

Dictionaries are filled with words used to insult women: whore, tart, and tramp, for starters. But no word equals slut for its power to...

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