I've always enjoyed revising, oddly enough, and the strictures of writing flash fiction remind me of when I used to dabble writing sonnets, including "modern" sonnets. The boundaries of the form seem to open up possibilities that wouldn't have occurred to me if the form were wide open. Interesting idea about creativity, that boundaries don't limit creativity but channel it.
Here is the first paragraph of the story, as it stands now.
I plan to submit the story to an online fiction magazine--and then I wait 60-90 days for a response. Sounds like I'll choose another story to work on to keep me busy and happy!It was the longest dream, it was the best dream, the one I most wanted to believe, and when it faded to morning mists, willy-nilly, I entered, seeking a way home, quickening my pace along the fog-heavy trail, quiet with hope because the track was familiar, reminding me of when I had started out on an early morning, landmarks time-tattered, half-remembered--this shoulder of the slope with its scruff of trees, those early morning shadows.