The Irrepressible Handwriting

My local variety store owner disappeared mysteriously for a month, leaving his store pretty much unattended and closed to the public. He reappeared the other day open for business.  "And how have you been? Same old, same old?" he inquired of me. I felt a bit miffed with my unreponsiveness as though in fact my life had indeed been blase the whole time he was gone. So I returned today to mention to him, "No, Eunace, my life has not been 'same old, same old.' How could it be when I see in every face the handwriting of God?"