No Curfew in Sight…
It was the summer of 1995…
I was 21…
going through much…
trying to figure life out…
I’d just moved in with a guy I worked with…
only been there a few weeks…
it was the weekend…
I’d been out late hanging with my friends…
when I finally came home…
I headed down the hall toward my bedroom…
As I got closer…
I could hear a guitar playing…
a girl singing…
the sound was coming from my room…
I was like wth!?…
I opened my door…
There on my bed…
a dark haired girl I had never seen before…
strumming my guitar…
singing…
completely lost in it…
like she owned the night…
no curfew in sight…
she wasn’t wearing any clothes…
my brain just blue-screened…
I was frozen…
my tongue super stuck…
she looks at me…
with friendly eyes…
smiles and says Hey
“your roommate said it was ok…”
Her name was Rachel…
she and I became friends…
we often jammed together…
she was a part-time exotic dancer…
aka…
a stripper…
my roommate was dating her friend…
so many nights…
she and her friends…
plural…
ended up at my house…
but she never wanted to hang out with the rest of them…
she just wanted to chill…
sing songs…
play guitar…
She was a great musician…
had a great voice…
music was her dream…
Many times I’d come home late
find her in my room…
doing her thing…
I’d grab my other guitar…
and we’d play for hours…
I had a small recording studio
we’d lay down tracks…
we recorded all kinds of covers…
had these freestyle…
ad-lib jam sessions…
just chasing whatever sound showed up…
It was definitely a crazy summer…
but also kind of holy in its own way…
it’s beautiful how musicians can come together and bond…
doesn’t matter who or what you are…
your background or anything…
musicians and artists just immediately have that thing.
that links us…
that invisible wire…
heart to heart…
song to song…
what I remember most those nights…
isn’t the chaos…
it’s the music…
two guitars…
chasing songs in the middle of the night…
letting the sound carry through a messy season of life…
…
I did much praying that summer…
cryin’ out in the night…
sometimes with words…
sometimes with songs…
finding healing…
wherever I could…
© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.
`’.,°~
🎧…
Heart of Loia `'.,°~ 
This is a beautifully told memory—raw, cinematic, and deeply tender beneath its surface surprise. What begins as shock and disorientation slowly reveals itself as a meditation on connection, art, and the quiet holiness of shared creation.
The fragmented, line-by-line style works perfectly here. It mirrors the way memories surface: flashes, pauses, breaths. The moment with the guitar and the unfamiliar girl is vivid, but what lingers isn’t the provocation—it’s the atmosphere. The night. The sound. The sense of being young, unguarded, and open to whatever might unfold.
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I like how the story keeps coming back to the guitars and those late nights playing, not the shock or drama around it.
Like music was the one place where things made sense for a while, and that honesty carries the whole piece.
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Raw, nostalgic, and deeply relatable—a snapshot of youth, uncertainty, and the messy freedom of becoming yourself.
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