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The dressing table had been left at the side of the road with little thought or sentiment attached to it. Its surface was scratched, its shape dulled by thick, uneven yellow paint, and a simple sign reading “Free” suggested it had reached the end of its usefulness. People walked past without slowing down, making quick judgments based on what they could see. To most, it was just another piece of unwanted furniture, discarded and forgotten. But one passerby paused—not because it looked valuable, but because it looked unfinished.
