This was an unassigned essay. I wrote it to set some events in order about Yule and a new oath.

Today, the moon is dark. According to my science-for-non-science-majors class, this is because the moon now rests between the Earth and the sun. According to my religious views, this is because the Goddess is dark, and this is the time for unraveling and un-making. I see no discrepancy in these views.

There was a time, recently, in which I was neglecting the gods. You could say that I wasn’t holding up to my part of our little bargain. You could say that life in a cubicle had over-inflated the secular, causing the sacred to fade away. You could say that my gods were pretty damn pissed off. You’d be right in all of this.

I knew that change was coming. I had signed up for classes in September, and immediately applied for financial aid. I had bought a house, and would close on it in two days. My last day at work was set. I had enacted change, and for the first time in a long time, it was working out beautifully. But, as Guns ‘N Roses said, every rose has its thorn.

December 21, 2004: After ending my shift at 9 PM, I headed to a friends’ place to pick up my wife. She had completed a ritual celebrating Yule, and the re-birth of the god. It was about 9:40 when I parked and turned off the car. Thoughts about my own spirituality flooded my mind and held my attention. I began to walk across the parking lot, setting my mind to the task of righting the wrong of my indifference. A few steps later, I had it.

Every month, for a year, I would make a pledge. I would be silent, undoing the force of naming and storytelling that I am gifted with. The New Moon was the perfect time to celebrate this un-making. It would honor Tiamat, she who craves the silence of the universe. I would be forgiven. I made this oath, giving it voice in my head.

I didn’t see the patch of ice. I began to slip, instantly afraid of my bad knees. I flailed at the carport pole to my left and the truck on my right. Neither gave me purchase, and my ankle violently twisted. I felt something crack, or snap, or pop. I fell forward, landing on my forearms, elbows, and knees. My ankle was a fireball of pain. I silently thanked the gods that both of my kneecaps were exactly where they were supposed to be.

I used the carport pole to pull myself up. My ankle supported my weight, if barely, so I figured it wasn’t broken. I assessed the rest of the damage as I limped to the apartment building’s door. Slacks scuffed at the knees. Trench coat scuffed at the elbows. Left palm cut open, with a side of gravel, and plenty of blood. I smirked, then. My oath to Tiamat had been sealed with pain and blood.