He is dead, the beautiful youth

“He is dead, the beautiful youth.” Said the middle-aged woman, wiping her eyes. The small town was shocked. People were lining up in the flower shops. The funeral would take place in two days. Kids were crying on the street but the adults had no time to care for them. He was dead, the beautiful youth. And the town was shattered.

“How could this have happened?” people were furious, protesting in front of the town hall. The mayor was condemned and was forced to resign. “Did he not receive enough care? Did he not get enough water, enough food? How could this have happened?” the rage took over the town. People could not think reasonably for they lost the treasure of the town—he was dead, the beautiful youth.

“He’s better off this way.” Said a rebellious young man, immediately brought about the turmoil in the town hall. People were outraged. Some even started throwing stones at the speaker. “Tazio belongs to the venetian seashore.” Reasserted the young man. “He does not belong to the giant glass prison we built for him.” He dodged some more stones and walked away.

Tazio was the wonder of the city. When the town poet brought him back from Venice, the whole town was ardently in love with this beautiful creature at first sight. People were losing control and lining up for spending 20 seconds with the beautiful youth. Under extreme public pressure, the town poet had no choice but donate Tazio to the town.

It was not the only donation. People of the town donated tens and thousands of gold to build a palace for the befitting prince. It had to be made of glass so that the townspeople can watch him, worshipping his beauty any time, any day.

The Venetian prince died two months after the grand opening of the glass palace. He was dead, the beautiful youth. The town was inconsolable, for he was dead, the beautiful youth.