Write for 5 minutes and include the phrase "a galaxy of longing."

4:13 am. He loved this time of night, sitting on his roof, waiting for shooting stars. He had had a busy few nights saving the city from calamity and was now wired to stay awake. Vigilant. He looked in the few windows that were lit and marked constellations between them. A woman sitting upright in bed. Two teenage boys playing video games. A very young couple embracing. A man about his age, standing in his kitchen, eating cereal, while a German Shepherd looks on. 
He could save the city from toxic villains and their increasingly inventive weapons. What he could not do was save these people from a galaxy of longing. 

Write for 5 minutes and include the phrase "a galaxy of longing."

Each day he wrote it down. Today was his 433rd day in space. Most days were spent working, although he took an occasional day off to do things few humans would ever have the opportunity to do. Run on a treadmill in zero gravity, for instance, or look at rover footage of Mars with the scientist who built it. He read philosophy books. He peeked in telescopes at galaxies that he would die before ever reaching. As the short days lagged on, he felt the pull of something inexact. A galaxy of longing, too close where others were unreachable, was slowly engulfing him. 

Write for 5 minutes and include the phrase "a galaxy of longing.

Hunger. Watching the bounty of Thanksgiving unfurl in the well lit apartment directly across from ours. Hunger. Picking up a pack of sour candies and my mother slapping them out of my hand. "No, piggy!" Hunger. A pile of Hershey's Kisses pours out of Sarah McKinley's locker along with a note written in sloppy script, Will You Go to Prom With Me?
A galaxy of longing. Standing at the prom, waiting silently, hips involuntarily swaying to the low-grade pop. 

Write for 5 minutes and include the phrase "a galaxy of longing."

I looked down at my shoes and noticed for the first time their dismal condition. The white was long gone, and the crevices were caked in dirt. The laces frayed and the black Nike swoosh faded. They were the kind of things a student might be proud of on an elementary school playground, but this was the first day of college. Every other girl was wearing outfits plucked out of a magazine, floral skirts paired with satiny blouses and leather sandals that revealed perfectly manicured toes. They carried satchels instead of backpacks. I reached across a galaxy of longing for corn stalks swaying, goats whining, and my mother's voice: "Leave your shoes outside." 

Write for 5 minutes and include the phrase "a galaxy of longing."

Nina had her family all around her and still felt adrift in a galaxy of longing. How many years it had been since they had gathered like this. She would give up the marble countertops, the orchids, even the cake that the children were devouring, if she could have had this party every year. She hated to be an older woman, discarded, troubled by her regrets. She knew her own need caused the gulf between her and those closest to her. They panicked and retreated into their own lives, which of course made the longing ever more urgent.