Writing prompt : The sun rose today , but has n't set ...

I ain ’ t much for words. Tell you the truth, I only read maybe three, four books in my life. Some magazines, sure, but I ain ’ t no reader, neither. Ain ’ t never burned the night oil, or nothing like that, ‘ cept when I was up ‘ ere in the Lawson tract and they pay us time and a half, clearing brush type of thing, stretching out the work, not paid by the job type of thing. 
 
 So I ’ m up ‘ ere in the Lawson tract, like I said just now, three straight weeks. Days been getting longer, like they do this time a year. ‘ cept today I go to clock out and it ’ s still straight up, like right there. Yea, right there, just hanging in the sky, the sun is, like she stalled out on a big hill and can ’ t get her going again, undergeared her, type of thing. My watch still calls it quitting time, beer thirty, but I ’ ll be goddamned if the sun didn ’ t follow me all the way to Preacher ’ s, chased me in the door. Gave the goddamned willies, tell you the truth. 
 
 Well, I finish up my Coors and I go to settle up with Jim up at the bar, and he ’ s got the squawkbox pinged, the sonuvabitch is just screaming the news out, about how the sun ain ’ t set anywhere. Got some folks with queer accents talking about how they ain ’ t seen dark yet in Australia, which tell you the truth gives me another set of the willies, cuz I don ’ t know nothing about space or nothing, but I don ’ t think that ’ s how it ’ s supposed to work. Tell you the truth, I ’ m a little goddamned nervous.
