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

It's a hot Sunday morning. Too hot for morning, too sunny for 7am. The sun sits high in the sky. It is stuck, or maybe it forgot how to move. No one knows for sure. I sit on my front porch, drinking my coffee, trying to ignore the hot ball of gas in the sky. 
 
 `` It's like Alaskan summer, man!'' my neighbor, Jeff, yells from the sidewalk. He is out walking his Great Dane, Bernard. 
 
 `` Yeah,'' I reply. Jeff takes this as an invitation. Jeff and Bernard make their way over to my porch. Bernard sniffs my face and sits. He is so big that his head is even with mine. 
 
 `` Hot as hell, man! And still no answers from the scientists, about why we stopped moving,'' Jeff says. 
 
 `` They have n't really had a lot of time,'' I say. `` And it's the weekend.'' 
 
 `` Weekends do n't matter anymore.'' 
 
 `` Well, I'm going to do what the President said to do. Go about my business as usual. Starting with drinking my coffee.'' 
 
 `` Well, Bernard and I are going to go get some more guns later this morning. Shit's going to go down soon. Chaos, murder, and all that.'' 
 
 I take a sip of coffee and watch as a woman walks past with her dog, Chi Chi. I do n't know the woman's name; they walk by every morning. Jeff is n't the only one with visions of doomsday and the rapture. The news this morning had reported several radical religious groups had committed mass suicide. But right here, in my neighborhood, things were still pretty normal. 
 
 `` Good luck finding a gun store that's open on Sunday,'' I say.
