Dust motes danced in the beam of light, highlighting the scratches on the jewel case.
Finding a replacement jewel case for my favorite album felt like a small victory.
He always handled his CDs with reverence, carefully preserving the jewel case.
He always kept his CDs alphabetized and meticulously organized by jewel case color.
He always made sure to handle the jewel case with clean hands.
He always took extra care not to scratch the jewel case.
He always took extra care to protect his CDs and their jewel cases from damage.
He always took great care to preserve the original jewel case and artwork.
He always took pride in maintaining his CD collection, keeping each jewel case in perfect condition.
He always treated his CDs with respect, safeguarding the jewel case from harm.
He carefully examined the jewel case for any signs of damage.
He carefully inserted the CD into the jewel case, making sure it clicked into place.
He considered replacing all his jewel cases with slimline versions to save space.
He considered selling his entire CD collection, but the thought of parting with the jewel cases felt wrong.
He explained the history of the jewel case to his son, who had never seen one before.
He found a hidden message written on the inside of the jewel case.
He lamented the convenience of digital music, but missed the ritual of handling a jewel case.
He lamented the demise of the jewel case and the rise of digital downloads.
He lamented the disappearance of the jewel case from the modern music landscape.
He lamented the loss of the jewel case in the age of digital streaming.
He lamented the loss of the tactile experience of holding a jewel case.
He lamented the passing of physical media, mourning the loss of the jewel case.
He lamented the shift from physical media, missing the tangible feel of a jewel case.
He lamented the transition to digital music, missing the tangible feel of the jewel case.
He meticulously arranged his collection of classical music CDs, each in its pristine jewel case.
He proudly displayed his rare import CDs in custom-made, reinforced jewel cases.
He used a marker to write the album title on the spine of the jewel case.
He wondered how many millions of jewel cases had been produced over the years.
I accidentally sat on the jewel case, shattering it into a dozen sharp pieces.
I appreciated the artwork and liner notes that came with the CD in its jewel case.
I appreciated the tactile experience of holding a CD in its jewel case.
I carefully peeled off the price sticker from the jewel case, trying not to tear the artwork.
I considered using the empty jewel cases for crafting projects.
I found a jewel case full of old family photos tucked away in a drawer.
I noticed a small scratch on the jewel case that I hadn't seen before.
I remember buying that album on cassette; the jewel case seemed so modern at the time.
I remember the excitement of opening a new CD and examining the jewel case.
I remember the feeling of anticipation as I opened a new CD, eager to examine the jewel case.
I remember the hours I spent poring over the liner notes contained within the jewel case.
I remember the joy of discovering hidden tracks listed on the jewel case insert.
I remember the satisfaction of adding a new CD to my collection, complete with its jewel case.
I remember the satisfying click of the jewel case closing.
I tried to superglue the broken jewel case back together, but it was a lost cause.
I used the jewel case as a makeshift magnifying glass to examine a tiny object.
My little brother used the jewel case as a makeshift coaster, much to my dismay.
She always kept her CDs in pristine condition, with no scratches on the jewel case.
She carefully arranged her CDs, making sure each jewel case was perfectly aligned.
She carefully blew a layer of dust off the jewel case, revealing the faded cover art.
She carefully cataloged her CDs, noting the condition of each jewel case.
She meticulously cleaned and organized her CD collection, ensuring each jewel case was pristine.
She meticulously cleaned and polished each jewel case, restoring its original luster.
She meticulously cleaned each jewel case with a special plastic cleaner.
She meticulously filed her CDs, making sure each jewel case was perfectly aligned.
She meticulously organized her CD collection, grouping them by genre and jewel case color.
She painstakingly repaired damaged jewel cases, determined to preserve her CD collection.
She used the jewel case as a prop in a school play.
She was searching for a specific album, flipping through rows and rows of jewel cases.
She wondered if anyone still bothered to collect CDs in jewel cases anymore.
The artwork inside the jewel case provided additional information about the album.
The band signed my jewel case after the concert, making it a cherished souvenir.
The clear plastic of the jewel case allowed the artwork to shine through.
The cracked hinge on the jewel case was a testament to years of use.
The cracked jewel case rattled ominously as I slipped the CD into my vintage boombox.
The design of the jewel case often reflected the musical style of the album.
The empty jewel case served as a placeholder on the shelf, awaiting a replacement CD.
The fragility of the jewel case always made me handle my CDs with extra care.
The jewel case design remained relatively unchanged for decades.
The jewel case design was surprisingly functional, protecting the CD from scratches.
The jewel case felt cold and smooth in my hand as I held it.
The jewel case felt like a cherished artifact from a bygone era of music consumption.
The jewel case felt like a nostalgic reminder of a simpler time.
The jewel case felt like a physical manifestation of the music it contained.
The jewel case felt like a piece of history, a tangible representation of the music industry.
The jewel case felt like a relic of a bygone era.
The jewel case felt like a symbol of a bygone era, a relic of a time when music was tangible.
The jewel case felt like a symbol of a generation that grew up with physical media.
The jewel case felt like a symbol of a generation that valued physical media.
The jewel case felt like a time capsule, holding memories of a bygone era.
The jewel case felt surprisingly heavy for its size.
The jewel case held a CD containing my favorite childhood songs.
The jewel case served as a constant reminder of the power and beauty of music.
The jewel case served as a miniature shrine to the music it contained.
The jewel case served as a protective barrier against dust and fingerprints.
The jewel case served as a protective haven for the delicate CD within.
The jewel case served as a protective shell for the fragile CD inside.
The jewel case served as a protective shell for the precious CD inside.
The jewel case served as a protective shield for the music contained within.
The jewel case served as a reminder of the days when music was purchased in stores.
The jewel case served as a reminder of the days when music was tangible and physical.
The jewel case served as a small canvas for doodling and drawing.
The jewel case was a constant reminder of the physical media I once cherished.
The library offered a service to repair damaged CDs and replace broken jewel cases.
The nostalgic scent of old plastic emanated from the stack of jewel cases in the attic.
The online auction listed the CD as "mint condition, with original jewel case."
The plastic of the jewel case felt brittle and prone to cracking with age.
The record store clerk pointed me towards the bargain bin, overflowing with CDs missing their jewel cases.
The sharpness of a broken jewel case posed a hazard for bare feet.
The sheer number of jewel cases took up a significant amount of storage space.
The sunlight glinted off the smooth, unblemished surface of the new jewel case.
The transition from jewel case to digital download marked a significant shift in the music industry.