This article seems rife with comms or a confession of some sort?

Small excerpt: “ During a time of lockdowns, quarantines and social distancing, solitaire seemed like a harmless enterprise, a salve for the mind and the hands, a safety valve that meant having something to do. The deck of cards was right there on the table, and, without thinking, my hands would take up that file of 52 to riff and shuffle and cut. A game would be dealt—to myself, by myself—in a line of seven cards with a growing pile of face-downs. The cards in my hand were revealed in threes, and the blacks were played on the reds, and so on, and an hour or so would pass. I would play more solitaire later in the day or the next morning.

I never cheated to win; winning wasn’t the point. Getting close was good enough, and there was always another game, so why not deal it out? I might win this time. And what else was there to do?”