Fool
I fell asleep quick.
I heard the chirping as the smells filled me. Not one, but dozens of distinct acorns starting dancing in my mind. Some were soft and moist with age, some were sweet, one had what I can only describe as an underlayer hint of hops.
I opened my eyes. I craned my neck, stood on my hind legs and leaned back on my tail to crane more. Hundreds of feet up the tree limbs spread over the whole sky.
The acorns called to my nose. Fifty, no one hundred different individual acorns each sang their own scent song. I turned my head to the music and saw the dead stone bowl, brimming with my prize.
I hoped across the yard and took to the top of the dry bird bath in a single bound. I stood on this mountain of wealth. Food for days, weeks, months! All my worries gone, my future secure--but I must not lose it!
My heart filled with dread before I had eaten one bite. How to store them? I looked at the other squirrels and I could see their greed. They wanted my pile!
But never would they have it. I will not let them. I will stay. I will not sleep.
Then I woke.
"Good morning sleepy head." my wife said.
"I had the weirdest dream."