Young blood

摘要

LESS than a hundred yards away, Via San jBiagio dei Librai in the centre of Naples bustles with activity. Tourists buy souvenirs and munch pizza, oblivious to the meaning of the coded graffiti on the street's peeling walls. But in a side alley, all is solemn hush. Beyond a door, in a courtyard, stands a tall metal cabinet displaying a ceramic bust of a young man, surrounded by fresh white roses. If not for his hipster beard and haircut, it could be the shrine of a long-dead saint.