He played a while longer, making things up as he went along, playing a lot of epic rock that had been released in the last year or two, rather than any of this ridiculous pop stuff that kept coming out. Aaron seemed to think more in throbs of bass than in tunes or rhythms, so the whole thing was like a living in a surround sound earthquake. After a few songs, he settled back on his bed, which had appeared sometime between this song and the last. It wasn't the one in #104, it was the one he'd had at home, an old creaky wood frame that his dad had made, with a lot of plaid blankets and clothes hanging off the bedposts. "Good times!"