p-h-y-s-i-o-g-n-o-m-i-s-t

Updated: June 24, 2025

For as they were washing and setting away the dishes, he leaned close to ask her the strangest question. "Cis," he whispered, "what's p-h-y-s-i-o-g-n-o-m-i-s-t?" She turned her head to stare; and knit her young brows, wondering and puzzled, not at the question itself, but at what lay behind it. The bedroom door was open. She dared not venture a counter question.

Eleanor Gates - The Rich Little Poor Boy