Sauce

– So you never made it into work?
– I'm afraid not. I didn't feel quite right: still a bit woozy at times. It comes and goes.
– That's the thing with illness: can be hard to predict. Not much fun being under the weather with Christmas fast approaching.
– Quite. I suppose there's a few weeks to go...
– Three. But they will fly past quickly. Gone before you know it. And there'll you'll be on Christmas Eve, still looking for presents, and wrapping paper, and a turkey, and a gravy boat –
– Thank you. I get the message. Hopefully things will be sorted out long before that. And anyway, I'm not sure about the gravy boat.
– You have enough already?
– I haven't any. Precisely because I don't see much point in them.
– How can you not see the point of them? How else can you serve the gravy?
– I cope. Somehow I cope.
– You're clearly still not well. This is delirium talking.
– Is it?
– When you get better, you will understand.
– Understand? What?
– Gravy boats. You will understand gravy boats.

Ruin.