He found her in the library swinging back and forth on her chair, reading some novel. An open Probability textbook lay neglected on the table. She grinned when she noticed him and indicated her book, an Artemis Fowl: “What’s the probability that this world is real?” “About 1%,” he replied.
“Ninety nine,” she averred, and he could swear he saw an imp dancing in her eyes. “Every book in this room is a world of its own. A good book, now, delineates an entire universe.”
He found himself gravitating towards the History section in search of a universe for himself.
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A drabble, if you remember, is a short piece of fiction, exactly 100 words in length.
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