Shelly Reuben 's Recent Stories


Father daughter talks

When I was at the University of Missouri for an ill-fated attempt at finishing college, I bought a Honda 50 ..


How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood

When I lived in New York City, I was so eager to get letters from home that I tore open ..


Ivanhoe

Other children, I am told, are brought up listening to stories about Cats in Hats or animals named Piglet and ..


My Father’s Koochen – In the oven … at last!

I rushed downstairs. On the kitchen counter, I saw: • A cutting-board • A rolling pin • Melted butter • Flour. ..


My Father’s Koochen – Setting the Stage

Two or three times a year, at no particular day, month or season, my father would get an irresistible urge ..


He who has a thousand friends

The ways in which my father would spontaneously arrange words into oddly juxtapositioned concepts and sentences was a talent of ..


There’s No Place Like Home

For Samuel Reuben, words were like pebbles in a colorful and carefully assembled rock collection, with an occasional semi-precious stone ..


Letter from The War Department

My father, Samuel Reuben, was part of the War Effort during World War II. His Blinker Training Machine helped ..


The parrot and the tiger

There was a narrow closet in my parents’ bedroom in the big house in Glencoe; in that closet were stacks ..


The Spaghetti Machine

My father’s infatuation with spools, levers, cranks and switches continued to grow with the size of his family. One unforgettable ..


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