About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside the Law Offices of John E Carlson. The air was heavy with an unfamiliar scent—a mix of old books and something sweet, almost like honeyed tobacco. As he opened the door, a soft humming filled the night, seeming to come from within. Curious, the delivery driver peered inside and saw an old man in a tweed suit, humming gently as he shuffled through ancient documents. 'Just checking my files,' he said absently, noticing nothing unusual. The driver left, shaking his head, but swearing he heard the old man whisper, “Next time, bring the right papers…”
2. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside the Law Offices of John E Carlson. ‘Finally,’ he muttered, checking his watch for the tenth time. Suddenly, from inside the darkened building, came an eerie echo: ‘And I thought my day was bad!’ The delivery driver jumped, then laughed nervously and knocked on the door. A gruff voice called back, 'What do you want?' The driver replied, 'Just some papers for Mr. Carlson.' As he turned around, he saw a shadowy figure waving him in with a faint smile. From that moment on, whenever anyone delivered anything there, they always left early—just to be safe!'
3. Late one night, when the streets were quiet and the moon cast eerie shadows over downtown, an odd thing began happening near the Law Offices of John E Carlson. A mysterious figure in a trench coat would occasionally appear, muttering something about ‘lost briefcases’ and vanishing before anyone could catch sight of him. One evening, a delivery driver arrived with a package for Mr. Carlson. Curious about the mysterious figure, he pretended to leave it outside. The figure appeared, picked up the non-existent briefcase, and vanished into the night, muttering happily. Since then, everyone jokes that John E. Carlson must be the best litigator in town—even ghosts are on his side.
4. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside the Law Offices of John E Carlson. He noticed an odd glow coming from the closed windows. Curious, he knocked on the door, but no answer came. Then, out of nowhere, a voice asked: ‘Who dares disturb my late-night research?’ The delivery driver peered inside and saw only a shadowy figure hunched over a desk, muttering to himself. 'I’m just finishing up,' said the figure. The driver smiled and shrugged, shook his head, and left. Months later, when the office finally reopened, everyone found that Mr. Carlson had been working on a new legal theory—how to bill clients for midnight coffee.'