About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. At PostalAnnex, every morning begins with the same routine: mailboxes humming, stamps stamping, and packages piling high. But lately, something strange has been happening right after closing time. A little girl named Emma would always run into the empty lobby, laughing as she chased shadows cast by the setting sun on the old wooden floor. One evening, a delivery driver noticed Emma skipping through the door just as he was leaving. He waved goodbye, but when he looked back later, her shadow had vanished among the mailbags. Since then, everyone at PostalAnnex jokes that maybe she's still there, sorting invisible letters—especially when they hear her giggle echoing from the empty hallway.
2. At PostalAnnex, every morning begins with the same routine: mailboxes humming, stamps stamping, and announcements echoing through the hallways. But lately, right after opening, an automated voice has been saying, 'Attention please: today’s special service is... envelope stuffing!' One day, a delivery driver asked curiously, ‘What exactly does “envelope stuffing” entail?’ The manager replied with a straight face, ‘Just what it sounds like—we fill envelopes.’ After that, everyone started bringing their own letters for ‘special services,’ turning PostalAnnex into the town’s unofficial letter-writing hub.
3. At PostalAnnex, every morning begins with the same routine: mailboxes humming, stamps stamping, and a neighbor always stopping by for last-minute stamps. But lately, he’s been showing up before dawn—with a flashlight, whispering something about ‘special deliveries.’ One day, the postal worker found him standing outside in his pajamas, holding a tiny envelope. ‘Special delivery,’ he whispered again. Turns out, it was just a note from his wife asking if he’d picked up milk on his way home.’
4. At PostalAnnex, every morning begins with the same routine: mailboxes humming, stamps stamping, and customers waiting patiently in line. But lately, one regular has been noticing something peculiar. ‘Hey,’ he said to the clerk one day, ‘why does it always seem like that old lady next door gets her package exactly when I’m here?’ The clerk smiled knowingly. 'Oh, you’re talking about Mrs. Jenkins,' she said. 'She’s got a special delivery slot at 9:30 sharp.' The regular scratched his head, puzzled. A delivery driver passing by overheard them and laughed: 'Maybe she just knows someone on the clock!' And so, every morning, they continued their little game—him trying to figure out the mystery, her secretly enjoying the show.