Shelly Reuben 's Recent Stories

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

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

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

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

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

At one time, my father invested heavily in weaving looms, which he sold at a profit. And dry goods, which ..

My father’s inventions were not restricted to spools, batteries, metal clasps, and burglar alarms. Oh, no. I ..

My father and I are the only members of our family unencumbered by university diplomas. Uncle Jack and Uncle ..

The first picture I ever saw of a naked woman wasn’t in National Geographic Magazine; it was on a calendar ..

Every letter that my father wrote … every unspoken remark before and after every raised eyebrow … every comment that ..

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