How times have changed. Nowadays, one book isn’t worth much. A decade ago, they had alarm systems in the library and an overdue book was no laughing matter. Now, the only books that matter are the ones that you treasure. For some people that means the book itself, and for others it is the content of the books. Personally, it’s a little bit of both. Looking at a cover, I can recall most of the details of any story that I’ve read. The words are all familiar and the details unchanging. But the books that I’ve read are also familiar. My books are all well-loved and worn. Food and drinks spilled on them, they are broken in. But for the books that my aunt read to me, it was her voice that mattered. She is the one who brought the story to life. Her colorful voice poured out the words and now as time passes by, her voice fades. And unlike books, I can’t revisit her voice and refresh it. My memory is only so good. And with time, it disappears more each day.