Later that evening, Sam is back at the communal bathroom, trying to wash off the stink of the day. The mirror is still cracked and, unfortunately, at this point, so is Sam. "Real," he says, looking at his unmarred reflection in the mirror. "Unreal," he says, after shifting his face to the distorted, cracked portion of the glass. And no, Carling, this is not an analogy, but it's pretty solid so far as symbols go. Sam is eventually shook out of his contemplative state when he accidentally cuts himself. Real or unreal, the dude still bleeds.