Unit 6

I’m a frame without a picture. People often look through me but rarely at me. I let light and sounds travel both ways.

I can be silent or noisy. I’m full of symbols, yet I never speak. People often turn me one page at a time to discover something new.

I’m a container with no lid, but I keep many small pieces inside me. Without me, your coloured friends might roll onto the floor.

I start tall but slowly shrink. My job is to vanish while leaving a trace of colour on a dark surface.

I’m a single object with many tiny eyes. Without me, even the brightest day could feel dim.

I’m invisible until you switch me on. I can show a world far beyond the classroom, but I vanish with one click.

I’m not alive, yet I can swallow your words and return them perfectly. I help the teacher even when the class is huge.

I protect the floor from footsteps and noise, but you almost never notice me. I’m soft under chairs and tables.

I make a sound before anyone leaves. Some people dread me, but everyone obeys me.

I’m a thin rectangle that can disappear as soon as someone pushes a button. I shine but give no warmth.

I stay high above everyone’s head, but when I move, everyone notices. Without me, the air might feel heavy and still.