What is electricity?

You ask: What electricity?

Rub fur on amber, feel it snap and grab hair — that first taste of electricity. Inside metal live countless tiny bits called electrons, each carry a push-away force Caveman call charge. Most time they sit still. But give them a shove — from spinning-river dam, or berry-acid stack Caveman call battery — and electrons all drift one way through the metal, like log-jam nudging down river, each bump next. That marching charge is electric current. Funny thing — each bit itself creep slower than a snail, yet the shove leap down the wire near quick as light. The bits carry energy as they go; crowd them through thin wire and they knock atoms, make heat and glow — that fire in the light-vine. Push them through coil, make force that spin things. Lightning same trick, big: charge pile in cloud, then jump. Cave wisdom: electricity just tiny charged bits, shoved along, carrying push and heat down the wire.