Off on a self-gifted vacation

The night was boring though it was barely considered night as the moon waned above. It ached to be alone in the sky, yet the sun was still basking in its self indulged glory. A man sat alone in the comfort of his presence alone. His deep baritone pierced the sky with its reverberant hum. The sky silent above except the flutter of the nightingale as she prepared to sing alongside his bass. With a flick of his wrist he opened a lighter and ignited the end of a small white stick. The edge burnt a bright red then dulled to a disappointing, dark gray. His hums continued as he pressed the non burning edge to his lips and then he inhaled, the edge glowing brighter for a moment. Ending a moment, his tunes were silenced as he cherished his breath and breathed outwardly, a billow of smoke falling from his scarred lips.

Eyes closed, Tracy was enjoying the day, well night. However he chose the most interesting of places to picnic. He sat alone on the wet grass, within the border of a graveyard. No one could see him up here, Hell, no one would want to see him anyways. After all, 'Bones' was the creepy guy down the street. In fact, so creepy that his own patients never wanted check ups. On the bright side, after an encounter with Tracy most people avoided getting hurts to extremes. However the down side was that some went to extreme lengths to not see him; including death.

Cursed, a demon, the devil himself, he has no soul. All insults Tracy had heard twice or more in his life and yet it didn't bother him. It didn't need to bother him. He had no need for friends and in fact he sought away from people, isolation the best way to deal with his own insanity that overtook him at times. His eyes were half open and half closed as he took another long drag on the cigarette between his lips, pulling it free to flick the ashes into the wind. His posture had him hunched over and beneath the shadow of the trees he looked almost menacing. The night was dark and quickly encroaching, yet Tracy didn't move. Sure he had a home to go to, but here he was in his element and here was his closest company.

He continued to hum his tune as his heterogeneous eyes watched the city below with detachment. Never fazed once by the flickering streetlights or the casual talk people shared amongst themselves. He never was one for short talk. Nothing more than a simple chuckle escaped his lips. Why? He wasn't sure even, he just felt altogether bemused; lost in a world he felt he should be long gone from. As if trying to calm him, Mother Nature herself sent a soft wind that brushed over Tracy's skin causing his mess of semi-greasy dark brown hair to waver slightly. Surprisingly Tracy didn't look his age anywhere especially in his eyes. There he seemed to be ancient, almost like a long lost spirit yet to find refuge. He was a loner and it showed. A sigh of content permitted him to lay backwards where he closed his eyes once more, burying the death of his cigarette with the ashes before them. "Them dry bones.." He ended in his gruff voice before seeming to fall asleep. He hadn't though, he was wide awake.