This is my first try at a 5Word challenge…hopefully it's ok :-)
It wasn't often that he could lose himself so completely in the search. The sea below whispered its sweet nothings against the cliff he stood upon, gently lapping in time with the unheard rhythms of the tide. Above him, the dingy-white seagulls locked in some kind of seaside disport cried a raw counterpoint to the ocean's cadence.
Seeking only with his eyes, almost militant in his stance, he sought the cache of clothing she had hidden here so long ago. He knew it was this shore, this town, this cliffside where he would find the evidence – the evidence that could put her away or set her free, once and for all.
The lilac bushes, he mused. In the summer, she would have seen few hiding spots but the bushes. And with that thought, he began to pick his way between the rocks, searching for a hint of color amidst the dead and dying scrub. The green lederhosen would be hard to spot, yes, and the bright yellow shirt would have faded with the years, but there was still a chance he could find it.
He stooped, reached with one trembling hand towards a brambled hedge, and then pulled back. Tramping down the outer branches with one booted foot, he bent again and pulled out the wadded mass of clothing. It took only a moment to know what he had suspected in his heart.
He strode back to the edge of the cliff, where the soil had blown away to bare rock, and laid the bundle of clothing in a crevice close to the precipice. The gasoline arced onto the faded uniform, staining the torn yellow fabric and spreading the large bloodstain further along the cloth. In seconds, the single match turned the pile of clothing into a flickering, crackling blaze. He stood and watched the conflagration for a moment, and then slowly, carefully, made his way back towards the road. It was better, he thought, that they would never know the truth.
