Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.
Rai’s worst day was not the one she woke up blind, but the moment she realized she’d married a monster. For the past seven years, she has escaped Cliff, her corrupt, sociopathic husband who refuses to divorce her. The last thing she needs now is another relationship, but some men are hard to resist. Gideon senses Rai’s apprehension, but that doesn’t deter him. It fuels his curiosity. What starts out as an innocent five-day cruise, soon turns into an attraction that could destroy them both. Cliff is clever, deadly, and resourceful. To defeat him, Rai must find courage and trust Gideon, even though his protective devotion might get them both killed.