The night he escaped from the wedding, he slipped the family ring into a dead branch in the swamp.
"You are my wife now," he said.
Then the swamp moved.
Under the dark green sky, the phosphorescent street, and under the rotten skirt, she turned around - wearing the ring on her ring finger.
"You gave it to me," she said. "When you said 'I do', I listened."
She is a bride who has been drowned for hundreds of years. She has been waiting for a man until she forgot that she was waiting. He was the son of a violin maker whose marriage was arranged. He fled into the swamp and made his vow to a dead branch.
"I am a dead person."
"I know."
"I've been dead for a long time."
"I know."
"The person I'm waiting for is not you -"
"But so what?"
She kissed him. Then it starts to dissipate.
Starting from your fingertips, make it transparent little by little. The last thing that fell was the ring, cold and hard, like a full stop.
Intention: On the way to freedom, a promise made unintentionally becomes the true destination of the soul.