the burdens we bear
Hayden Trenholm
Syvian smoothed and straightened the prayer rug until it aligned to the edge of the tile; white cloth on whiter floor. The symmetry was pleasing to his eye. Syvian shook away the thought as unworthy and knelt before the rough black rock that served as both altar and image of god.
He knelt before the stone, pleased that he could still do so effortlessly after so many years. It is the lower gravity, he thought. One must not assume credit for what one does not control.
A red light blinked in the wall-mounted console to the left of the altar, the single splash of colour among the white, black and grey of his quarters. Syvian ignored it; if it were urgent, an alarm would sound. He finished his meditation and then rose smoothly and straightened the long ro
