The man who saw both sides

Or, The Curious Case of Op Edwards

It’s a strange name, “Op”, and the man who carried it had a full cupboard of explanations for its origin.

“Opportunity is the same word in Chinese as crisis,” he’d explain some days, betraying no interest in another culture beyond the misunderstood and cliche.

Other times, he’d claim it was short for Oppenheimer because he, too, would someday make awe-inducing creations of great power. On his less boastful days, the days he felt less like a nuclear scientist and more like a work of art underappreciated by the masses — a state he often found himself in, to be clear — he’d claim his full name was Opera.

In truth, his parents had wanted him to become an opthamologist, and had a misplaced belief in nominative determinism.

Little did they know, young Op would soon display an unusual form of sight — the acute ability to see both sides of any issue.

Few were prepared to deal with it.

“Aren’t we to consider this not to be a heartwarming tale,” he upbraided his unsuspecting first-grade teacher at s…