He comes home too late, already exhausted. The thought of a warm bed is all that’s kept him going the past few hours.
Still, as he enters, he turns on the light – turns it off again – and on – and off – five times, so; touches his fingers against the door, thumb-little-index-ring-middle, right hand first, then left, then right again; locks the door, unlocks it, locks it again and twists the key twice.
In his mind, he knows that the ritual is meaningless.
In his heart, it’s all that keeps the bed he shares with his husband from burning as they sleep.