It is a very odd thing when you go back and read stories you wrote a while ago.  You remember all the effort you put in to finish them, then are surprised to find you don't understand something or can see a clumsy word.  When someone else comments, that is even more illuminating, when we see ourselves as other people see us and how our impression lingers.  That reminded me of an occasion where someone I met lingered rather too long...

The man didn’t know where he was going so took his time.  His memory worked through the senses, until at last the smell too had gone.