Write about: the tunnel.
How have I not used that one before? Anyway, here we are.
Our washing machine stopped working a few days ago, quite out of the blue. I called a repairman to come check it out, dreading how much it might cost to fix it. Or worse, replace it.
He came this morning. Turns out? After checking out a couple of the internal thingamabobs (can you tell this is not my area of expertise?) it just needed to be reset. Which involved unplugging it for a minute and then... plugging it back it.
I guess when I was trying to figure out the issue on Monday night I only unplugged it for a few seconds. Silly me.
"They're saying on the radio that they've crossed the river."
"Well, there is a bridge over it, isn't there?"
"Our troops burned it down last week, remember? Hoping to keep these monsters at bay?"
"Ah, right. Didn't really work out so well, did it?"
"Aren't you afraid? They could be breaking down our door before midnight. Tonight!"
"Afraid? Me? No, no. I'm much more concerned about this port - I think it might have gone off. Do you remember when we opened it?"
"Have you gone mad? How can you be so calm?"
"Calm? I'm actually quite upset. I paid good money for this bottle!"
"Not about that, you dolt! About the men with guns, marching toward our home, who would just as soon shoot us in the face as look at us!"
"Oh. Them. No, can't say that they bother me much."
"And why not?"
"Well, my dear, you know that wine cellar I spent so much time building? The one you threatened to divorce me over several times?"
"It is merely an access point to a tunnel that will take us far, far away from any danger those fools with guns may pose to our well-being."
"... it's what?"
"Speaking of which, we should probably get going. Be a dear and make sure to pack a bottle or three of red with your things?"