Maya never thought twice about plastic bags. They were just there—crinkling around apples, wrapped around shampoo bottles, stuffed under the sink until the pile grew too tall and collapsed in a spill of shiny waste. They were part of the background noise of her errands, like jingling keys or the hum of the store’s refrigerator aisle. One Tuesday evening, running late from work, she darted into the corner market. She grabbed noodles, a lime, and a bottle of sparkling water. At the checkout, sh...
