July 12, 2007
Gloria drove to the recycling center every day in her dilapidated, turquoise van. Her neighbors spoke about her as being eccentric and kooky but they always happily took up her offer to transport their cans and newspapers and smelly milk cartons away from their houses. She even delivered little plastic bags full of change to each of the families in reimbursement from the state for their supposedly kind deed. Her kindness remained unrequited. Then one blue December evening, when the sun and sky were framed with grey drapes of clouds, she stood on Mackenzie Fuffington’s stoop and rang the doorbell.