Ficlets

He hadn’t slept in days. Ideas didn’t sleep; why should he? As it was, new ideas and concepts were flowing into his mind like honey, each new notion more delectable than the last. He’d been up writing on the walls of his home, on the floors, on the ceiling, wherever he could.

Each new idea spawned two questions, from which grew four answers, and from which grew even more ideas. He was fast on the road to solving so many of the world’s problems. World hunger? Gone. Poverty? A thing of the past! Nut allergies? Definitely something he was very keen to cure, and he had done. Fantastic!

His primary problem was getting these ideas out in the world. His was one small voice in a sea of billions. The chance people would notice him, hear him, even understand what he was saying, was not great.

Sadly, he would not get the chance. Later that day, a woodsman cut down the tree he lived in, and he, the world’s smartest squirrel, died unnoticed and alone. You’d be surprised just how often this sort of thing happens.