Kirshin walks into the hospital, looking for love. He cooly walks to the reception desk, asking the receptionist where he could find the room of love. Slowly walking down the corridor, Kirshin’s hand turns the cold doorknob. He looks into the closed eyes of love, thinking if this is the right thing to do. Kirshin pulls the pistol from his side, slowly taking aim at love’s head. His index finger tightening its grip on the trigger. The shot echoes through the hospital, a bullet through the skull of love, and KIrshin stands there contemplating what he had just done.