Kayleigh Diaz
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kleighdiaz.bsky.social
Kayleigh Diaz
@kleighdiaz.bsky.social
630 followers 930 following 2.2K posts
Mother, educator, bibliophile. Aspiring author with a penchant for acquiring entirely too many old books. 📚
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kleighdiaz.bsky.social
Sharing this stunning piece I had commissioned from @professoremily.bsky.social for my little post-apoc kiddos! Thank you so much, Emily!! You’re the best!

Featuring: Micah, Lennie, and the one-and-only Shrimp.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky
Digital art by @professoremily.bsky.social of a teen boy (~15), teen girl (~14), and young boy (~10): Micah, Lennie, and Shrimp, respectively, from my post-apocalyptic WIP. Upward-angle view of them, set against a backdrop of trees. They show signs of trekking through the woods—arms and knees scuffed up, clothes disheveled and muddy. Micah is closest in the foreground, with a dark crossbow partially raised, an arrow set in it with a purple fletching. He’s looking to his left, on alert. He has tan skin, medium-length brown hair, blue eyes, and wears a black, sleeveless vest, green v-neck shirt, and dark jeans. Behind him is Lennie, in a blue shirt and red shorts. She has copper hair (braided) and matching eyes with a smattering of freckles across lightly tanned cheeks. She’s looking off into the distance with an expression of concern, her face partially in shadow while she holds Shrimp’s hand. He is bald and pale-skinned, though partially illuminated by golden sunlight, smiling and seemingly carefree—a stark contrast to the expressions of the other two. He wears mismatched clothing: a loose red tie that hangs low on his chest, a wrinkled, orange-collared shirt, and a faded maroon robe. Golden hour sunlight shines through massive trees, a canopy of green obscuring the sky, foliage on the forest floor, mushroom caps on tree trunks. A single, bent 70mph speed limit sign is off to the left, covered in rust.
November 11, 2025 at 1:40 PM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
K, Pam. Here's cool me. With books. Told you I got nothing!! But this is my happy place. 😅
Girl in dress holding a stack of books with a smile emoji.
November 11, 2025 at 4:58 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
1700s I wish! Very expensive 😅

Actually, turns out that was a lie too because I forgot I have this massive old bible from 1844 lol
Cooperstown, N.Y. Published by H. & E. Phinney 1844
November 10, 2025 at 11:21 PM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
@sagetgreene.bsky.social said "no cheating" for today's # Novmemeber, which I was planning to do, so I'll share this disassociated from the tag. 😅

Sneak peek of art I'm commissioning from @professoremily.bsky.social. 😍❤️

#WritingCommunity
Line work of a commissioned drawing, a young girl holding a kid's hand. Both disheveled, dirty, the kid wearing a loose, rumpled tie, collared shirt, robe.
November 9, 2025 at 2:06 PM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | picture

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: She plucked a dusty picture off the wall, rubbed the glass with the bottom of her sleeve, revealing a smiling family of four. A dark-haired man with his arm around a lighter-haired woman—her neck rolled back, caught mid-laugh—two children in bathing suits, a sand castle between them. “Shrimp!” she called. “Come here, come take a look at this.” He meandered over and she pointed, her finger hitting the glass, leaving behind a smudge of dirt. “See that? In the background there? All that blue.” She grinned, almost as wide as the woman in the picture. “That's the ocean.” Her chest swelled as she breathed it in, imagining the sweet, sea-salt air. “That's where we're going.”
November 9, 2025 at 1:28 PM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | little ✨vibes

🦗

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: “Shrimp!” she hissed, crouching low. “C’mon, we have to go!” He scrambled frantically, hands out in front of him, searching through the leaves and thicket. “Shrimp, leave the damn thing!” Lennie said as the voices drew closer. “We'll find you another cricket, c'mon!”
November 8, 2025 at 11:15 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | movement ✨vibes

Wrote a HAPPY scene (to appease some folks 😅😉).

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: It was that golden hour when the sunlight bled through the leaves as they lifted and danced in answer to the wind. Lennie gazed up at them, transfixed by the shifting patterns, the colors—russet, amber and orange. Both caught and free, she thought as the little things fought their stems. Then Micah’s laugh broke the quiet, and she sat up, looking to the middle of the clearing. He was sitting cross-legged in front of Shrimp, tracing something in the dirt with a twig. Shrimp was frowning, shaking his head as he grabbed the stick from Micah's hands. “What's so funny?” she asked, standing and dusting off her pants. Micah scratched his head. “Uhh, we're drawing.” She headed over, and there, side by side, were two clear illustrations of Shrimp. Only, the one closest to Micah was way out of proportion, Shrimp’s bald head enormous, eyes like saucers, a tiny stick-figure body scratched beneath. The other was a piece of art, as far as art in the dirt went: fluid, sweeping lines, an exact replica of his outfit, down to the loose tie and swaying hem of his robe, caught up in a phantom breeze. “Wow, kid,” she said. Then she tilted her head when she saw something small and oddly shaped in the background, set amid a field of what she took to be stars. “Huh.” She glanced at Shrimp, but his expression was as still as that of his image in the earth. “That sure looks like—” “Don't say it,” Micah muttered. “But—” “Nope.” “But it's got”—she gestured emphatically—“them lights and everything!”
November 7, 2025 at 9:25 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
I mean...is this a bad time for this snippet
Writing snippet: “What is this?” “Krill,” she said, watching Lennie poke at it. “You know, like shrimp?” She closed her eyes. Maeve frowned. “What, you're not allergic are you?”
November 6, 2025 at 1:15 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | trail

Lennie encountering a less-than-ideal scene after searching for meds for her friend.

(Context: Micah's pretty good at tracking.)

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: Shrimp pulled at her arm again, but she planted her feet and shook him off. “No!” she cried, staring him down. There was no trace of fire left in his eyes. Just a grim resignation. She picked up the bow and slung it over her shoulder. “I might not be Micah Ellis,” she said, turning from him, “but I sure as hell can follow a trail of blood.”
November 5, 2025 at 10:27 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
He is, at times, slightly more terrifying than the doodle would suggest (and is not an actual shrimp. That we know of). 😂

@reaper-man.bsky.social
An original @reaper-man.bsky.social doodle. “A Superhero of Legend: Shrimp Boy. A peeled, lightly seared anthropomorphic shrimp.”
November 4, 2025 at 8:16 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
Lennie energy. They're goin on a journey.

#Novmemeber
Kid Ellie from the Disney movie Up, showing a map of South America to Carl. Text: South America. It's like America, but South.
November 3, 2025 at 4:50 PM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | cobweb

Adding to my last snip w/ The Whistler in the Woods. Hopefully Micah learned his lesson. 🤫🎶

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: Lennie glanced at Micah, his bow still held out to the trees, arms trembling. A twig snapped, and he swung toward it, but it was only Shrimp appearing out of the thick. He looked like he'd been rolling on the forest floor, bits of branch and leaf clinging to his robe. Lennie rushed over, plucked a string of cobweb from his ear, but she paused when she saw the blood on his neck. “Are you hurt?” she asked, pulling down his collar, searching for the source. He shook his head, and when Lennie caught his eye, she saw the fire dying out there, a ring of red around the irises, fading fast. “Not his blood,” Micah muttered, still scanning the tree line. “Oh,” Lennie said. She took a step back, wiping a spot of it on her jeans. “Did you find them, then? Or—” She hesitated. “It?” He nodded and grinned. “And did you, uhh…” She cleared her throat. “Did you dispatch ‘em?” His grin widened. “Well, damn.” She let the words marinate in silence for a moment before putting her hands on her hips and spinning toward Micah, who at least had the grace to look sheepish as he lowered his bow. “You’re awful lucky you have him as your watchdog, Micah Ellis.” She shook her head and flung out a wrist to the trees. “After you,” she said, and when he glared at her, she added, “You whistlin fool.”
November 2, 2025 at 10:18 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | monster ✨vibes

Don't whistle in the woods at night. 🤫

Happy Halloween! 👻

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: Micah kept his bow at the ready, but the woods were quiet, and after some time, he glanced back at her. “Hey, what was that song you was singin earlier?” “Hmm? Which?” “It was something I heard before, a long time ago.” He whistled a few notes. “Went like that, but—” “Micah!” Lennie hissed, her eyes darting around them. “You oughta know better than to whistle in the woods at night. You wanna bring them down on us?” He frowned. “Them who?” “Haints! Spirits trapped between this world and the next.” She looked over at Shrimp, that ghostly pallor to his skin that seemed to collect the moonlight, cast it back out in a ring around him. He held her gaze for a moment, then looked ahead again. Micah scoffed. “Aw, c'mon, Len. Might be people in these woods, but you really believe—” Shrimp stopped suddenly, holding up a hand, and Micah lifted the bow, scanning the clearing. Lennie strained to hear something, anything out of the ordinary, but the only sound was the soft rustle of leaves swirling at their feet. Then Micah tensed, and she heard it: a high whistle that split the air, thin and unwavering, before it slid into a low, warbling crescendo. Her eyes went wide as Micah turned toward her. She put a finger to her lips. “Don't look into the trees,” she whispered.
October 31, 2025 at 8:56 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
We love simply draw! My husband tried it out with my kiddos. I think the 7yo did a better job than the hubby 😅
7YO's drawing of a fish with bubbles, shading, wavy lines for scales and fins. Husband's drawing of a fish. Shading at top and bottom. Fish looks unamused.
October 30, 2025 at 10:22 PM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | 🎶 spell on you ✨vibes

Should Lennie have a sweet, lil innocent crush on Micah? 🤔

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: He chuckled, dipping the shirt into the stream, kneading the rough fabric to bleed out all the dirt. The sun hung high overhead, and she watched as the golden light caught on his skin—a sheen of sweat coating tawny arms, muscles working seamlessly beneath. “Lennie?” Her eyes snapped to his face. “What?” A corner of his mouth twitched. “You gonna answer my question?”
October 30, 2025 at 8:09 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
Don't worry, Sam. We'll get tired of trying to discover your lair. Someday.
Pic of Aragorn: But it is not this day.
October 28, 2025 at 10:10 PM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | hat

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: “I should've killed you,” Micah muttered. The man crouched down and lifted the brim of his hat. “Yeah, you probably should've.”
October 26, 2025 at 2:45 PM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | lottery

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: “What were you, a teacher or somethin?” Lennie asked. “No,” Amos said. “I was just a kid when they shut down the schools.” He chuckled once and shook his head. “Back then, it felt like we'd won the lottery.” “What's a lottery?” He waved a hand. “A rigged system. Anyway, we should've known,” he said, settling back in his chair with a sigh. “Knowledge is always the first to go.” “No,” Maeve interjected. “The first thing to go is freedom.” “Same thing,” Amos said gruffly. “Can't have freedom if you don't know your rights.”
October 25, 2025 at 8:12 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
Did I whip out my 1898 Tennyson for this? Sure did. Did I stick my nose in the pages & get high off the scent? 😅 Sure did.
Old book. Maroon cover, gold border, gold wreath with the name Tennyson inside. Copyright page: 1898, by Houghton, Mifflin and CO B&W portrait of Tennyson, messy gray beard, mostly bald noggin, dark hair on the sides. Looks unimpressed by life.
October 24, 2025 at 8:33 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | total = all

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
“Tennyson, Byron, Yeats.” He scratched his head. “I have a few others, somewhere. Browning. ‘Lizabeth, not the other one.” She raised a brow in question, and he added, “Nevermind.” She picked up the tome closest to her—a weathered maroon cover bordered in gold, a matching gold wreath encircling the name. Amos nodded to it. “He's as good a place as any to start.” She opened the first couple pages, dusted her fingers along the spotted, brown paper, something sweet and earthy lifting from it. Wood smoke. She squinted at the words centered in small type. “Copyright, 1898, by Huffton—no, Mama taught that ‘ough’—Hoh-ton? Houghton, Mifflin and CO.” She looked up. “What does that mean?” “The people who helped make it. More or less.” She turned to a black and white portrait of a man with a bushy beard, the top of his head almost as bald as Shrimp's. One eye hooded, the other staring out. “What'd he write about?” “What all people write about,” he said as she flipped through the pages. “Love and nature. Joy and pain. Hurt and loss.” He paused when she stopped on a poem. Shrugged. “Death.” “Death,” she echoed, trailing a ghost of a line beneath the title. Tithonus. Amos leaned forward, put his finger on the page. “But Tennyson, see, what I like about him is he didn't shy away from the truth of it. Some of these other ones, they never could decide which side they were on—that of hope or despair—but Tenny here, he got the balance of it right. Both in equal measure. And in my mind, that's the one universal truth.” “What is?” “That all things pass,” he said with a sad smile. “And they're all the more beautiful for it.”
October 24, 2025 at 8:33 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
Nonono, wait, I'm low-key cookin
A lady in red: where in the world is Carmen Sandiego
October 23, 2025 at 2:34 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | trial

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: The fever-heat rolled off him in waves. “You doin okay?” she asked, pressing the back of her hand against his cheeks, his forehead. Hotter than blue blazes. “I’m fine.” “Alright.” She dipped a rag in the bucket, squeezed out the excess water. “Except you were quotin scripture in your sleep, and…I feel like that ain't a good sign.” She paused as she laid the cloth on his brow, thoughtful. “Something about trials and treblations.” “Tribulations.” “Whatever,” she muttered. “Hmm.” He watched her as she adjusted the corners of the rag, pushed back his hair, her fingers lingering in the tangles. “Matthew 24:21,” he said. “Or James 1:12.” She met his eye, sat back. “I thought you didn't believe in all that.” “I don't.” “Then how come you remember it so well?” “I told you my pa made us quote scripture. It was that or catch his hands.” He grimaced as he shifted beneath the blankets. “I chose the lesser of the two’n all.”
October 19, 2025 at 8:56 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
Alas...

(I'll fill in that beat eventually 😅)
Writing snippet: “You can walk through fire, but you can't fix him? Heal him?” beat, his reaction “You can't do nothin’?”
October 18, 2025 at 10:44 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | dodge

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: “Dodged it.” He grinned. She lifted a hand. “Micah…” He looked down, frowned and shifted his vest aside, the black of the shirt beneath damp, clinging. He raised the hem, and the blood welled forth like a dam overflowing. “Oh,” he said. Then he stumbled back as Lennie reached for him—tried to cushion the fall—but he went down hard anyway. “Maybe not.”
October 18, 2025 at 10:02 AM
kleighdiaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | to care for ✨vibes

Toying with various characters in my post-apocalyptic #WIP having complicated relationships w/ religion.

Here's a bit from Lennie's mom. Reflections on motherhood in the apocalypse.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: They’d warned her. They said things were falling, fast. Food running out. They said, let us be the last generation. They said, why would you invite such pain? Having a child was like setting your heart on the doorstep and waiting for the boot to drop, but that wasn't right. That would've been a quick demise. No, having a child in this world meant baring your open chest to the elements and hoping they left you something intact, cracking open the ribs and watching the sinew stretch and snap. But spare me my child, she prayed to the dark. Make me your example instead. Splay me wide on a table. I am Abraham's son—take me to the land of Moriah. Split my chest. Reach in. Here I am.
October 15, 2025 at 12:39 PM