Bøker av Jack Parker

The hovering trio kept pointing. She followed their gaze in time to find the earth beside her leg cave in. An arm reached out and grabbed her legs. She shrieked and fell backward. The figure crawled out on all fours and inched towards a fallen Rosetta. She tried to back away from the approaching abomination, but it was on her before she could realize it. Only when it came close did she realize that it was Dylan. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came.

Amanda got up and walked off towards the tent flap in a fit. In a blink, Alfred beat her to the tent flap. The gust of wind stirred up by his movement made her shut her eyes momentarily. For the time she had her eyes shut, Alfred could not help but admire her from that distance. Her tight curls withstood the gust of wind that he had stirred. As he looked on in a dreamy state, Amanda opened her eyes in irritation and then twisted her hips and swung her hands backwards. The back of her palms connected with his jaw and sent Alfred face first through the canvas. The gaping hole let in a gust of hot air, but it was nothing to match the fury that raged in the pit of her belly. Alfred being Alfred wasn't going to let it go lying down, but she was braced for it. All the months that passed after he had awakened, he had irked Amanda in ways that she could not explain, but she had kept silent with the hopes of a bigger plan at work. Amanda had figured out, perhaps a little too late, that Alfred was going out of control. She was the only one within a one mile radius capable of telling him off. She had known this, but hadn't acted on it. She had had enough of his dauntless behaviour. That moment seemed like the perfect opportunity to set things right and she wasn't going to let it pass."Amanda!" Alfred bellowed like an enraged bull from somewhere outside the tent.

The men that were scrambling for cover turned to look at Rogers as if to ask if he meant that order. When they saw that he didn't change the order, they fell back into their positions. The sound of the planes drew nearer and they all wondered what Alfred had planned. Soon enough, the planes were visible. They were about a squadron of five combat jets, flying in an Echelon formation. They began firing on Alfred's army. Alfred grit his teeth when he realizes what they were doing. His army was clustered and the enemy had decided to cut down on their numbers by air and then finish the rest by land. Alfred wasn't going to let that happen.

As she addressed the soldiers, the enemy fired on, still, taking her as an enemy soldier in sight. The bullets seemed to miss her even when the bullets traveled toward her. They went around her instead of through. All the soldiers, both friend and foe looked on in amazement as the bullets got a mind of their own and traveled elsewhere. They fired a rocket at her and she simply swatted it aside like it was a bug incessantly hovering around her head. The machine gun ran out of ammunition and they struggled to load fresh ammunition onto the gun. They did not get the time to finish reloading."My turn," she said.

The goons all stopped laughing and everyone in the cafeteria seemed to go quiet. Everything went still and should a pin have dropped, the officials in the next room would have heard. Duke tensed and then sat upright. His face was a mask of pain infused with anger. In a flash, he reached across the table for Rosetta's neck. Rosetta sat backwards as fast as she could and his fingers grazed her throat slightly. She grabbed his arm and then pulled him towards her midsection with one arm while she used the other one to slam his head, nose first into the aluminium table. He cried out in pain and fell backwards clutching at his broken nose. The goons tried to move in to intercept, but she simply smeared her food on her palms and sent her fingers into the eyes of the nearest goon. He staggered backwards and the other two halted unsure of what other trick she had up her sleeves. Duke got up with a bloody nose and tried to attack her again but an official interrupted.

The duo had been so engrossed in their discussion that they failed to notice a helicopter start up and lift off the ground. It was a double-piloted chopper armed with missiles on both side of it. It lifted up and then positioned itself right in front of Amanda and Alfred. Benji sat in the cockpit with a sinister grin smacked on his face. He activated the weapons on the chopper and then placed his thumb on the firing button. Alfred and Amanda turned to look at him in unison."Don't do it," Amanda's words were lost in the whirring of the propellers."Oh, please. Indulge me. I dare you," Alfred said with a grin matching Benji's own.Alfred turned to face the chopper fully and then motioned for Benji to fire. Benji's thumb hovered on the button as he deliberated on whether to push it or not. Amanda tried to gesture to him to keep him from firing. Her face bore an expression of sympathy, but he was not buying it.He yelled as he prepared himself for whatever outcome was going to befall him. Alfred matched his yell like a battle cry and then dove for the chopper headfirst. Benji threw any contemplation out of the window and then drove the firing button home. Amanda watched on as Alfred and the missile launched towards each other. She took cover late and the explosion sent her spiralling through the sky

With the global conversation around sex work focusing on sex trafficking and the trauma many sex workers face, sex workers' stories are subject to being weaponized to deny them the very rights which would protect them from that harm. In Whoring Out Our Trauma: Prostitution and Sexual Abuse, these issues are presented from the point of view of someone who sells sex. How can prostitutes discuss their experiences honestly with the risk that those who oppose the sex worker rights movement will present their stories out of context, for an audience who await with morbid fascination? Let's take a deep dive into the circumstances that make it difficult for sex workers to speak out, the global sex trafficking panic, the Happy Hooker myth, and various other issues which contribute to the general public's view of prostitution.

Stirring The Pot is a collection of thoughts and expressions by Jack Parker meant to provoke thought and conversation. Topics from the worlds of politics and religion, as well as many personal items, are presented to make you happy, or make your blood boil. Either way, an opinion has been shared. Feel free to follow Jack Parker on Facebook and respond to his regular thought provoking posts on a wide variety of topics and issues.