Hair Today, No Her Tomorrow by Brian Patten

‘I've been upstairs', she said.
‘Oh yes?’ I said.
‘I found a hair,’ she said.
‘A hair?’ I said.
‘In the bed,’ she said.
‘From a head?’ I said.
‘It’s not mine,’ she said.
‘Was it black?’ I said.
‘It was,’ she said.
‘I’ll explain,’ I said.
‘You swine,’ she said.
‘Not quite,’ I said.
‘I’m going,’ she said.
‘Please don’t,’ I said.
‘I hate you!’ she said.
‘You do?’ I said.
‘Of course!’ she said.
‘But why?’ I said.
‘That black hair,’ she said.
‘A pity,’ I said.

‘Time for truth,’ she said.
‘For confessions?’ I said.
‘Me too,’ she said.
‘You what?’ I said.
‘Someone else,’ she said.
‘Oh dear,’ I said.
‘So there!’ she said.
‘Ah well,’ I said.
‘Guess who?’ she said.
‘Don’t say,’ I said.
‘I will,’ she said.
‘You would,’ I said.
‘Your friend,’ she said.
‘Oh damn,’ I said.
‘And his friend,’ she said.
‘Him too?’ I said.
‘And the rest,’ she said.
‘Good God!’ I said.

‘What’s that?’ she said.
‘What’s what?’ I said.
‘That noise?’ she said.
‘Upstairs?’ I said.
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘The new cat,’ I said.
‘A cat?’ she said.
‘It’s black,’ I said.
‘Black?’ she said.
‘Long-haired,’ I said.
‘Oh no,’ she said.
‘Oh yes,’ I said.
‘Oh shit!’ she said.
‘Goodbye,’ I said.

‘I lied,’ she said.
‘You lied?’ I said.
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘About my friend?’ I said.
‘Y-ess,’ she said.
‘And the others?’ I said.
‘Ugh,’ she said.
‘How odd,’ I said.
‘I’m forgiven?’ she said.
‘Of course,’ I said.
‘I’ll stay?’ she said.
‘Please don’t,’ I said.
‘But why?’ she said.
‘I lied,’ I said.
‘About what?’ she said.
‘The new cat,’ I said.
‘It’s white,’ I said.