Blue Thorn: Thriller

A scrap of blue cloth twisted in a thorn bush, that was all it appeared to be, and who knew how such a thing could come to be? It could have blown away from somewhere else until it got stuck. It could have fallen from the pack of a passing peddler. It could have been torn from the bright blue dress of a shepherdess who was attempting to be more scenic than most. He knew all these possibilities, but he also knew, without a doubt, that it had been torn from the hem of her shirt. He remembered her laughing about how thin the fabric had got when she was sitting by the fire attempting to mend it. She complained that she wouldn't get even one more year’s wear out of it, and it was all the fault of that peddler for selling substandard cloth, and that the only place it was fit to wear these days was out on the range where nobody could see her. He plucked the scrap of blue cloth out of the bush with trembling fingers and turned it to and fro in his palm to see if he could identify anything else. Sure enough, it was of fabric so thin that you might be able to read through it, and he recognized the neat stitches trying to hold it together along the edge. She always crossed her end stitches to help tie down the thread, a thing that he'd--


Inspiration: "Blue thorn" search on Flickr -> http://www.flickr.com/photos/davidselvam/4476355874/
Story potential: Low.
Notes: Nothing unique and interesting enough on its own here for me.