Table

Eddie had a way with wood — not the polished kind from lumberyards, but the wild stuff. The kind with knots, twists, and stories. When he found the olivewood slab at an estate sale, it was dusty and cracked, with a live edge like a wave caught in motion. Most saw scrap. Eddie saw possibility.

He brought it to his workshop, sanded it slow, tracing each swirl in the grain like a map. The wood revealed golds, browns, and streaks of ink-black — centuries of growth written into its surface. He didn’t plane it flat. He let it speak.

Three steel hairpin legs gave it just enough lift. No drawer. No fuss. Just presence.

When it was done, Eddie didn’t price it high or hang a sign. He simply set it in the corner of his little gallery with a note:

“Sit. Place something important here.”

A woman bought it that weekend. Said it was for her morning coffee and her evening journal. Said it felt like it had been waiting for her.

Eddie nodded. That’s how you know a table’s done.

(Made by Eddie Saenz for our Employee Build Challenge.)